


All Stars

by twilightemperor



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 45,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22630006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightemperor/pseuds/twilightemperor
Summary: What a time to be alive, Wangho thinks, in between romance, friendship and school commitments. Wait - what romance?
Relationships: Han "Peanut" Wang-ho/Lee "Faker" Sang-hyeok, Han "Peanut" Wang-ho/Park "Teddy" Jinseong
Comments: 138
Kudos: 83





	1. When you meet a demon king

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho meets the Demon King himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Bolbbalgan4's "Some" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/3mmLyEhphJAaW7hyEXAD8l?si=yztOwUq4Sn6FrYaNV6jV8g)

“Look,” Junsik mutters, digging his fingers into Wangho’s side. Wangho wheezes in shock, pushing his roommate’s fingers away from his ribs as he turns to look.

“Fuck, what is it,” he grumbles testily, squinting his eyes. A boy sits on a bench, a book in his right hand, his white shirt a stark contrast to his dark hair.

Dark eyes, Wangho tells himself. Dark eyes, pools of obsidian, a dark, dark soul. It’s cold and unwelcoming, like he’s staring down at them even though he isn’t.

“Isn’t that the Demon King?” Junsik says, hiding the bottom of his face with his hand. He lowers his voice, like he’s discussing a gigantic conspiracy theory. “Fancy seeing him around.”

“He doesn’t look as scary as people make him sound like,” Wangho whispers back. “We’re going to be late if we use the other way. Let’s just use the footpath.” The single step he takes is enough for Junsik to freak out.

His roommate makes a noise of discomfort, shaking his head quickly. “Are you insane? You want to use the goddamn footpath that’s two steps away from that bench? What if we piss him off, huh? I’m a weakling and you’re tiny!”

The Demon King is still, completely unmoving. They both flinch at the same time when his hand finally moves to flip the page of his book.

Wangho shrugs away Junsik’s comment about his height. He stares at the distance between the footpath and the bench, deciding that it would be safe to use the footpath. “He’s just reading. It’s not like we’ll disturb him. It will literally take three seconds for us to walk past him.”

“Damn it,” Junsik replies worriedly. “If we get killed, it’s your fault!”

Wangho laughs, good-naturedly rolling his eyes at his roommate’s dramatic antics. “He seems like a regular guy, there’s no way he’ll do anything to random strangers like us. Come on, let's go. We only have five minutes left before our lecture starts."

He grips Junsik’s wrist, pulling him towards the footpath that snakes across the school yard. His roommate drags his feet reluctantly, his expensive shoes crunching the leaves on the ground. They pass the bench quietly, and Wangho almost feels smug at the fact that nothing has happened, when -

“Hey,” a voice calls out. Junsik stops so suddenly that Wangho gets pulled back at the abrupt stop. Wangho turns around quizzically, making eye contact with Junsik before his roommate turns around slowly as well.

The Demon King is in the same place on the bench, but he’s holding on to a familiar-looking keychain. Surprised, Wangho gasps a little, looking at his bag only to see that his keychain is gone.

“You dropped this,” the Demon King explains, holding the bear keychain higher by its thin metal chain. His hair almost looks shiny under the sunlight, but his skin is pale, almost as if he rarely goes out in the sun.

“Oh,” Wangho stutters out, averting his gaze. The eye contact is unnerving, stirring an unsettling feeling in him. “Thank you.”

He reaches out to take his keychain back, fingers brushing against the other boy's fingers. It’s unusually warm, like a cup of hot tea in the winter. The Demon King’s lips curl up the slightest bit.

Junsik tugs impatiently at Wangho’s arm, wanting to leave immediately.

“Bye,” Wangho says politely before turning back to Junsik. The two head off towards their lecture hall, breaking out into a run when they see a few of their classmates dashing to make it in time.

“Holy shit!” Junsik exclaims, panting slightly as they round the corner. “He didn’t beat us up, and he helped you pick up your keychain? This is a survival story!”

“Come on,” Wangho grins, finally stopping to attach the keychain back to his bag. “He was so nice.”

“Well, he was nice to you, but he certainly wasn’t nice to the people he beat up with his bare fists,” Junsik mumbles as they enter the lecture hall and slide into their seats. Thankfully, they seem to be punctual. “I’m a lot bigger sized than he is, but you can bet he wouldn't hesitate to start a fight with me.”

Wangho chuckles, and thinks back to the other boy. Obsidian eyes, he thinks.


	2. Names and a dinner date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho meets the Demon King again, and gets a name. He also goes for dinner with Jinseong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to ALEX's "I need to paint my walls" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/7EnhGSOY5RbeIkFaoxiHZ2?si=rLTe0bmvR-u7UuHqBR0G1Q)

It’s a particularly dreary Thursday.

Wangho has been stuck in class for seven hours straight, and the skies are dark when he’s finally out of class at seven in the evening. He washes his hands after using the restroom, hastily wiping them with paper towels before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Walking slowly, he scrolls through his inbox. There’s a few messages from Junsik, some from a class group chat, and a single message from Jinseong. He swipes open Jinseong’s message quickly, seeing an invitation to dinner.

‘Yes’, he types, breaking out into a small smile. ‘See you at the train station in ten minutes?’

‘Okay’ the reply comes, followed by a sticker of a bear holding pompoms in its paws.

Wangho smiles, plugging in his wired earphones into his phone and scrolling through his favourite playlist. He walks down the winding path through the court yard, occasionally stepping on fallen leaves. The yard is dimly lit, the ground lights casting a yellow glow onto the trees. Strangely enough, there aren’t many students walking around anymore.

“Oh, it’s you,” he hears someone say. He looks up and notices it’s the Demon King himself on the same bench again.

‘This is why the path is so empty,’ Wangho thinks to himself.

“Hello,” he greets politely, bowing just enough to show respect. The music in his ears fade away when he pulls off both earphones from his ears, not wanting to appear rude. “Thank you for picking up my keychain the other day.”

“No problem,” the other boy says. His eyes seem to be searching for something, his gaze piercing. It’s not scary; it’s just dark. “Seems like it’s quite precious to you.”

Wangho nods, thinking back to freshman year when Jinseong had handed him the keychain. “It’s a present from a good friend.”

“I see,” the Demon King says. He hums. There’s a book in his hand again, the pages getting slightly ruffled each time a breeze blows by. “What’s your name?”

“Wangho. Han Wangho,” Wangho introduces. "I'm a second year student."

The Demon King nods, rocking on the bench slightly. His white shirt is bright, a contrast against the dim area. “I'm Lee Sanghyeok. Third year.”

“Nice to meet you,” Wangho says cordially. “I’m about to meet my friend for dinner, so I have to go. I’ll see you around?”

“See you around,” Sanghyeok affirms, the tiniest of smiles back on his lips.

There’s a soft breeze again, which makes Wangho twitch uncomfortably, burying his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He walks away while smiling, wondering how he had suddenly become acquainted with the Demon King himself.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally reaches the bustling train station. His phone vibrates in his pocket, signalling the arrival of a new message.

‘I’m waiting at the entrance’, he sends out in reply to Jinseong’s message asking him of his whereabouts. Someone brushes past, nearly knocking into him, so he quickly moves to the side and leans against the wall. The entrance of the train station is crowded, several students and adults rushing home for dinner.

‘Behind you’ is Jinseong’s reply. Wangho turns around and is immediately gathered into a bone crushing hug. Squeaking, he buries his head into Jinseong’s shoulder, the scent of cologne capturing his attention.

“Hey, you,” Jinseong says affectionately. “What shall we eat?”

“Do you want to get street food?” Wangho replies after Jinseong lets him go. He ignores the way his heart beats faster, taking in deep breaths to calm himself down.

“Let’s get it!” Jinseong cheers. Wangho laughs.

“Your stupid soccer cheer is going to get stuck in my head too,” he complains. “The other day, I was hanging with Junsik and I nearly responded with ‘get it’ when he asked me whether he should buy a drink with his meal.”

Jinseong slings an arm around him, grinning. His canine tooth sticks out. “Isn’t that cute? I think it’s cute.”

“Sure,” Wangho says sarcastically, rolling his eyes and jabbing Jinseong lightly with his elbow. He tries his best to ignore the warmth radiating from his friend.

“Don’t do that, I’m fragile,” his friend responds jokingly, slinging his arm tighter around Wangho. They make their way to the street stalls, excited to spend time together after a long day at school.


	3. It’s a party on the bleachers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho and Sanghyeok spend time together on the bleachers. Jinseong acts strangely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Bolbbalgan4’s “Galaxy” as you read this: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/6T3Mlx5fr71sm0u1YDAb4R?si=-YrOqMNFQRugprsuL4-DnQ)

Wangho finds himself waiting for Jinseong’s soccer practice to end, his laptop resting precariously on his crossed legs. His legs are starting to cramp up. It’s noisy as usual on the bleachers, with some of the other kids from the university hooting away when a player scores a goal or makes a good pass.

“Wangho-ya,” a voice calls out from just behind him. Wangho turns around and sees a pair of black Nike shoes, its owner wearing a white shirt and a matching black jacket and pair of pants.

“Sunbae-nim,” Wangho greets. “What are you doing here?” His heart starts beating way too fast at the way the other boy had called out to him so comfortably, which makes Wangho frown a little at his own reaction.

The other boy sits down, placing his book on his lap. “I was going to get a drink, but I saw you sitting here, so I thought I should come over and join you.”

“Were you reading at your favourite bench?” Wangho jokes, but instantly reminds himself not to act too friendly in case he unknowingly offends Sanghyeok. He places his laptop on his right and stretches his legs out slowly. His knees creak a little, making him wince. Sanghyeok follows suit, stretching his thin legs out into the air in front of them.

“Yes,” Sanghyeok replies, surprisingly unfazed at the way Wangho had known that the bench was his favourite place to read at. It was as if the older boy knew all about the rumours floating around about him and was content in making students avoid walking near the bench in fear of running into him. “Why are you sitting here?”

“I’m waiting for my friend. He’s the one with the blond hair,” Wangho says, pointing at Jinseong who is currently on the field with his team mates, running after the soccer ball. Somewhere behind them, someone squeals when a player lifts his shirt to wipe off the perspiration from his face.

Thanks to the gigantic distraction that is on the field, no one seems to notice that the Demon King is sitting on the bleachers with them.

The noise doesn’t seem to faze Sanghyeok, who hums in response and promptly opens his book to start reading again. Taking this as a signal to be quiet, Wangho lifts his laptop to place it on his lap again, this time with his feet resting on the lower step of the bleachers.

It’s a particularly chilly night. The wind starts blowing harshly as the sun starts setting, the night flies moving to the lights around the field.

Wangho is done with his homework, so he shuts his laptop and looks at the field where Jinseong and his team are now huddling around their coach. “It’s cold,” he complains to himself as he pulls at the sleeves of his thin long-sleeved shirt and covers his hands with the remaining fabric.

He suddenly feels the warmth of a jacket around him, and looks questioningly at the other boy.

“Sunbae-nim, you don’t have to do this,” he protests quickly, moving away from the jacket.

“Take it,” Sanghyeok mutters, pulling it closer around Wangho’s shoulders. “And you should call me ‘hyung’.”

Wangho’s heart starts beating slightly quickly again. Flustered, he pauses for a moment. “Thank you, Sanghyeok-hyung. I’ll return it before I leave.” It smells good, like freshly-washed laundry.

“Keep it till the next time we meet,” Sanghyeok says.

Wangho happily slips his arms into the sleeves to wear the jacket, dipping his hands into the pockets to keep his fingers warm. He smiles at the warmth his fingers feel. “Thank you. I’ll take care of your jacket well.”

“It’ll be fine as long as you don’t drop it somewhere,” Sanghyeok mutters with a deadpan tone.

Wangho feels the onset of a blush rising on his cheeks. “My keychain came loose! That was not my fault!” He whines, making a face.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Sanghyeok says with tiny smirk on his face. He abruptly stands up and pats away the dust from his pants. “I think your friend is coming over. I’ll see you around.”

“Bye, hyung,” Wangho says appreciatively, smiling up at the other boy. Sanghyeok leaves just as Jinseong approaches.

Jinseong climbs up the stairs of the bleachers and stops two steps below where Wangho’s sitting. “What did he want?” he asks defensively, eyeing the black jacket.

“Nothing, he just wanted some company, I think,” Wangho replies. “Let’s go get dinner?”

“Okay,” Jinseong says. “Here, take my jacket instead.” He hands Wangho his varsity jacket, his nickname ‘Teddy’ emblazoned across the back.

“Hey. It has your nickname on it. I can’t possibly wear it,” Wangho replies jokingly, punching his friend’s arm softly.

Insistent, Jinseong pulls off Sanghyeok’s jacket, holding his own varsity jacket up to help Wangho put it on.

“Thanks,” Wangho mumbles, folding the black jacket carefully and placing it into his bag. He makes a mental note to wash it the next day.

“How did you become friends with someone like him?” Jinseong asks, wiping away at his perspiration with a small towel.

Wangho shrugs. “It just sort of happened. We’re not really friends yet, anyway. Just acquaintances, I think.”

“Be careful of him, there’s a lot of bad rumours going around about him,” Jinseong says suddenly. Wangho instantly feels bad for making his friend worry, yet feels a strange sort of happiness at the way his friend cared enough to worry about his safety.

“I’ll be fine,” he replies.


	4. It’s sweet, so sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's kind of sweet, really. The drink, Wangho means. Not the boy seated in front of him at Comma Cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Day6's "Chocolate" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/0vt3kA21CNUpJq5RT24z9W?si=U-QlLH6BQ8yY0hoZ40tjnw)

Tuesdays are boring.

Wangho has nothing on for the day, save for a group project meeting with Junsik and his classmates at seven in the evening. Aimlessly walking around the school, he takes the time to sip on his cup of iced tea, occasionally pausing to snap a few pictures of the sky. Most of the pictures get sent to Jinseong with a teasing comment about the nice weather. His friend is stuck in another class that he had decided to take alone.

‘I regret taking this class’, Jinseong’s message reads. ‘Everyone here is weird’.

‘Too bad’, Wangho types and hits the send button, along with a sticker of a laughing cat.

He sits down on an empty bench, scrolling through Twitter and Instagram idly. Jaewan's post shows up — it's a nice picture of his dog, Winter, with its tongue sticking out of its mouth while seated on what seems to be Jaewan’s bed. A red heart appears when Wangho taps on the picture twice.

‘What are you doing now?’ Seunghoon’s message pops up at the top of his phone screen.

Wangho tilts his head, chewing on the straw as he clicks onto the notification to reply. ‘Nothing much, just taking a break before I have to cry over school again’, he sends.

‘Someone told me you owe him something’, comes the reply.

Wangho replies with a bunch of question marks. He racks his brain to think of who it could be. Definitely not Sungu, Haneul or Jaewan - Wangho hasn’t seen them in a while, and he hasn’t made anyone pay for his meals recently.

‘This guy’, the reply comes, along with a picture of Sanghyeok looking down at his book, leaning back on a wooden chair.

Wangho nearly drops his phone in shock, scrambling to hold it tighter in his hands. ‘Oh, yes’ his fingers fly over his keyboard. ‘Where are you two at? I’ll pass his jacket back to him.’

‘Comma Cafe’, Seunghoon replies. ‘He’ll still be here, but I have to go for class now’.

‘Thanks’, Wangho types, turning his phone screen off. He immediately jogs towards Comma Cafe, not wanting to make Sanghyeok wait too long. He gets there in five minutes and peers at his reflection in the window to rearrange his blond locks of hair. Taking a deep breath, he swings open the glass door and enters the tiny cafe. Sanghyeok’s seated near the window at the other end of the cafe, the sunlight shining down on his dark hair.

In that moment, Wangho thinks Sanghyeok looks pretty, but he won’t say it out loud. He pushes that stray thought out and keeps it under lock and key.

“Hyung,” he calls out tentatively as he stops by the table. “Thanks for lending this to me.” He holds out the black jacket, which he had thankfully washed and had been keeping in a paper bag in his messenger bag.

“Thank you,” Sanghyeok says, looking up from his book. He takes the paper bag and sets it down onto the seat next to him.

“See you around,” Wangho says awkwardly, ready to go back to the campus library to slave over his work.

“Join me?” Sanghyeok offers, fidgeting slightly, his hair catching the sunlight at just the right angle.

Wangho quickly agrees, willing his stomach to stop feeling so strange. He pulls out the chair across from the other boy and sits down, setting his bag on the chair next to him. There’s a momentary silence where he doesn’t know what to do.

“What drink do you want? I’ll order it for you.”

Hurriedly squinting at the menu to make out the words on it, he curses at himself internally. He had left his glasses at home today, deciding he was not going to need it for the group meeting. “I’ll just get a blended coffee.”

The other boy nods and stands up, squeezing past to walk towards the counter. Wangho pulls out his laptop and switches it on, relieved that he had charged it the night before. He pulls up several documents, sifting through the work he needed to read through.

Sanghyeok returns after a few minutes, just as Wangho finishes skimming through his class outline. “Here,” the black haired boy says, placing the cup on the table. There’s a few napkins carefully placed under the plastic cup to prevent the condensation from dripping onto the table.

“Thank you, hyung. How much should I pay you?”

“It’s my treat,” Sanghyeok says, unbothered. He sits back down on his seat, keeping his wallet in his pocket.

“I can’t make you pay! Tell me how much I should pay you, or I’ll go to the counter and check the price,” Wangho persists, not liking the feeling of making an acquaintance pay for a drink. Leeching off Junsik's endless supply of food is fine, but this certainly isn't.

The dark-haired boy shakes his head, the side of his lips quirking up ever so slightly. “Treat me the next time we meet.”

“How are you so confident that we’ll meet again?” Wangho asks teasingly, before he can stop himself from acting so casually with someone older than him.

“Give me your number so I can make sure we meet again,” Sanghyeok says simply, pulling out his phone and offering it.

Wangho swears his heart skips a beat, and he feels his cheeks turning warm. “That was smooth!” he jokes, taking the phone from the other boy’s hand. He types in his phone number with shaky fingers, and hits the call button. As soon as his own phone begins to buzz on the table, he presses the cancel button and hands the phone back. “Do you do this with everyone?” he asks, fiddling with his straw so he can sip at the whipped cream.

“Only with you,” Sanghyeok replies straightforwardly, slipping his phone into the pocket of his black jogger pants.

Wangho clears his throat and stares at his laptop, immediately pretending to be very interested in his class outline. Don’t, he tells himself. Don’t do this, he thinks.

Silence drifts over them, Wangho occasionally sneaking peeks at Sanghyeok, admiring the way the sunlight makes his black hair look glossy. The mental self-reminder that he’s into girls doesn’t seem to be particularly effective.

“Stop staring. Do your work,” Sanghyeok mutters, looking up from his book.

“I wasn’t staring,” he denies half-heartedly, but turns away to focus on the words on his screen. He decides that work can wait, and promptly saves the document before shutting down his laptop and closing it. “Hyung, let’s play twenty questions,” he suggests, fiddling with the strings of his yellow hooded pullover. He likes that pullover; it matches his blond hair well.

Sanghyeok closes his book and rests his chin on his right hand. “Why?”

“Just play it with me, hyung,” Wangho insists. “I’ll go first! What are you studying at school?”

“Philosophy,” the other boy says blandly, dark eyes flitting to look right at him. “And you’re studying Business.”

“Oh, Seunghoon-hyung told you?” he guesses, looking away to break eye contact. The crushed iced in his drink makes an annoyingly addictive sound when he pokes at it with his straw.

Sanghyeok nods, looking down at his cup of tea. “Who’s the boy you were waiting for the other day?”

Wangho tilts his head. “Jinseong? He’s one of my best friends! We met in freshman year.”

Sanghyeok sips his tea quietly and listens as Wangho rambles on about how Jinseong had been assigned the locker next to his, and they had exchanged greetings multiple times before they started becoming friends.

He finishes his story, and immediately stops himself from talking further. “Sorry, I was rambling.”

Sanghyeok shakes his head. “It’s nice hearing you talk.”

“Oh!” Wangho changes the subject, unsure of how to respond. “Do you play any games? Like Hearthstone or League of Legends?”

“Both of those,” Sanghyeok perks up. “What role do you play on League?”

“Jungle!” Wangho replies enthusiastically. “What about you?”

“Mid,” Sanghyeok says with the tiniest of smirks. “Are you any good?”

Wangho brags jokingly, “I’ll have you know that I’m Challenger rank!"

“Same rank,” Sanghyeok responds, sipping at his cup of tea again.

Wangho stares in surprise. “Really? Let’s duo together one day! Jungle-mid duos are supposed to be good.”

There’s a hint of a smile on the older boy’s face. “You sound like you’re addicted to league.”

“You must be, too, since you’re the same rank!” Wangho replies, laughing. “Geez, why didn’t Seunghoon-hyung introduce us to each other earlier?”

“He tried to introduce me to his friends,” Sanghyeok admits. “They were all too noisy, so I bailed and threatened to tear all his underwear up if he ever dared to introduce any more of his friends to me.”

Wangho blinks. “His... underwear?”

Sanghyeok sighs. “Huni is my roommate. The school placed us together.”

“So that’s how you know him!” Wangho exclaims. “You guys are polar opposites, I was surprised just now when he sent me a picture of you and said you guys are friends!”

“Yeah. He was bragging about knowing someone “really good-looking, tiny, but with a potty mouth”, and then he showed me your Instagram photos. He’s not wrong.”

Wangho pouts. “Are you talking about the tiny part, or the potty mouth part? That’s so mean, I’m not that short and I don’t swear that much, I think.”

“Figure it out yourself,” Sanghyeok replies with an amused smile before grabbing his phone to check the time. “It’s nearly dinner time.”

Wangho looks at the time displayed on his phone. “I have exactly an hour before I have to go for my group project meeting. Do you want to eat together, hyung?”

“Let’s get chicken,” Sanghyeok suggests. They leave the cafe, the door closing behind them with the attached bell jiggling loudly. The two walk in silence, Wangho trailing behind as the other boy led them in the right direction.

Wangho takes the time to admire how much taller Sanghyeok is, although he knows he’s just personally short. He sighs and walks in bigger strides to catch up to the other boy.

Sanghyeok miraculously starts slowing down, and they walk side by side down the busy pavement. Wangho occasionally gets pulled closer to the other side of the pavement to avoid the people walking in the opposite direction. Each time it happens, he feels the warmth from the other boy's bony fingers, pressing again the cotton material of his yellow sweater.

If Sanghyeok had noticed Wangho struggling to keep up with his pace, he had certainly not been vocal about it.

Wangho smiles, and on a whim, slips his arm around the other boy's arm. He feels warm inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Wangho, you're really good-looking, tiny, but you have a potty mouth! Which description is wrong? (Hint: none)  
> (2) Wangho does not seem to like skinship that much, but he does enjoy linking arms with his friends and the occasional hug. Reference: 2017 SKT videos where Wangho is constantly linking arms with Wolf.  
> (3) Dialogue-heavy chapter. I'm sorry!  
> (4) The cafe name is an obvious reference to coach kkOma, because I miss him very much.  
> (5) If you're reading this, you're automatically my Valentine!


	5. Figure your heart out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s two types of best friends: there’s the kind of best friend who drags you to the convenience store at midnight, and then there’s the kind of best friend who makes your heart skip a beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to The 1975's "Heart Out" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/3xrwXWG4O9uhtRyAd3MCou?si=4MpdnaE4QLWjbgETCiBnZQ)

“Do you want to go to the convenience store?” Junsik offers, sitting up from his bed.

Wangho shakes his head. “I have a report to finish. It’s due at midnight.”

Junsik sighs, staring at the ugly blue wall clock in their room. It had been a gag gift from their friend Jaewan, who had told them both that since they were a mess together, they needed some big time reminders. “For that International Relations module you’re taking without me? What are you left with? You have half an hour more.”

“Yeah, that shitty module. I just have to finish citations,” Wangho replies, chugging at his half empty cup of water.

His roommate wordlessly stands up and fills the cup again, covering it with the matching cover it came with, a tiny little cat figure sitting on the cover to serve as a lid handle. He peers over from behind, scanning the complicated looking words. “I’ll wait, so let’s go after you submit it,” he says. Wangho nods and continues typing away, occasionally stopping to sip at his cup of water. He types down the last citation, and scrolls through the entire word document one last time. Hurriedly, he sends in his document through the online submission portal ten minutes before the deadline.

He stands up from his tiny study chair and stretches his arms. “I’m done,” he announces, looking at his roommate who is back on his own bed, scrolling away on his phone.

“Nice!” Junsik cheers, grabbing his wallet off his nightstand. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

Wangho suddenly hears his stomach growl, reminding him that he had skipped dinner. “Me too.” The black material on the edge of his wallet peels off as he fishes it out of his bag. “And I need a new wallet.”

“Get a new one this weekend,” Junsik says, voice muffled by the sweater he's pulling over his shirt. “We can make Huni and Jaewan shop with us.”

At the mention of Seunghoon, Wangho is reminded of Sanghyeok and how they had dinner together at a small eatery, crammed into a tiny booth, legs pressed together under the table. They had left immediately after finishing their meal, and Sanghyeok had walked him back to school. “Okay,” he replies distractedly, walking towards their shoe rack to slip on his favourite pair of Adidas slippers. Junsik slips on his matching pair, and the two lock their room door before heading to the lift.

When the lift doors open, they walk into it, thankful that it’s empty. Wangho peers into the mirror at his messy hair and dark eye circles. “Wow, I look like shit,” he remarks with a frown.

“You look fine,” Junsik reassures. “Nothing can come close to the time in freshman year you pulled that all-nighter because you decided to scrap your entire essay ten hours before it was due.”

At that reminder, Wangho shudders. “Fuck, that was the peak of my student life. I’m never going to reach that ever again,” he says sarcastically, shuffling out of the lift when they reach the first level.

His roommate laughs. “Dude, I thought you were going to pass out after you handed in that essay. It was a hard copy submission, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, and I ran into the glass door when I was running to the student submission office to hand that paper in,” Wangho whines. “I had a big bump on my head for the next three days.”

Junsik snickers unhelpfully, clutching at his stomach, his right hand holding on to Wangho’s shoulder for support. “I had to buy food for you because you refused to leave our room!”

“What was I supposed to do! I can’t go out if there’s a red mark on my head!” Wangho justifies, shoving lightly at his roommate.

They reach the convenience store pretty quickly. Junsik goes straight to the cup noodle section while Wangho lingers around the refrigerators, looking at the small cans of beer.

An arm wraps around his waist. Jolting in surprise, Wangho looks up to see Jinseong staring down at him. “Hey, babe. Why are you looking at beer?"

“Oh, hey,” Wangho greets, ignoring the way his heart had leaped at the word of endearment. “Just wondering if I should drink a can with my meal.”

“You’re going to drink without me?” Jinseong asks, frowning, snaking his other arm around, bending down to rest his head on Wangho's shoulder.

“Do you want to join Junsik and I and be pigs in our room?” Wangho offers, pulling open the refrigerator to take two cans of Hite beer. He prays that his friend can’t feel how fast his heart is beating.

“Yes,” the other boy says, swooping in to grab a can for himself. “Come on, I want some fried rice.”

They wander down the aisle to the chilled food section, occasionally stopping whenever Jinseong gets distracted by some snack on the shelves. “These look so cute,” he holds up a pack of gummies with a bear character printed on the wrapper.

“Don’t waste your money.”

“It’s not a waste if it tastes good,” Jinseong sings out. Grabbing two packaged boxes of reheatable kimchi fried rice, Wangho rolls his eyes at Jinseong’s silliness while walking towards the cashier.

“Hey,” Junsik appears suddenly, arms around two big bowls of noodles. “We’re drinking?”

Wangho jerks a finger in Jinseong’s direction. “Jinseong’s joining.”

“Oh, hey!” Junsik greets, and the two launch into a discussion about the best carry champions on League. Wangho pays for the rice and the beer, and walks over to the oven to heat the rice up.

Jinseong wanders over, armed with two packets of gummies and his own can of beer. “Peace offering for paying for my food,” he explains, pressing a gummy to Wangho’s mouth. Wangho tries to grab at it to eat it on his own, but Jinseong shrugs his hand away. “Open your mouth.”

He sighs and opens his mouth for Jinseong to push the tiny gummy bear past his lips. He turns away immediately after that, pretending to busy himself with throwing away the plastic wrapper from the rice boxes. His heart is beating fast in his chest, and he wills it to calm down, closing his eyes for a few seconds.

“Oh, it’s done!” Jinseong says as the microwave oven beeps. He pulls open the door and slides out both boxes, now slightly steaming. He grabs one box, pinching at the sides while balancing his gummy packets and his can of beer in his arms — opting not to use a plastic bag. Wangho slings the plastic bag containing his and Junsik’s beer cans around his left wrist, lifting his own box of rice.

“Let’s go,” Junsik says, now carrying his own bag of food. He helps them hold the door open, waiting for them to go out of the store. They hurry back to their dormitory room.

Wangho settles his box of rice down onto his messy table, gathering his papers into a pile to make room for Jinseong’s food as well. Junsik opens his instant noodle cups noisily and fills both cups with hot water from their water dispenser, accepting the beer can from Wangho and taking a huge gulp out of it.

“How long is your food going to take to cook?” Jinseong half-complains, half-asks.

Junsik laughs. “Don’t be impatient. It takes three minutes,” he replies, carefully setting his food down onto his own study table, next to his can of beer. “Why are we drinking on a Wednesday night?”

“Because I just submitted a report, and my class starts at noon tomorrow,” Wangho helpfully supplies, leaning back on his chair. Jinseong has taken to lying on Wangho’s bed, laying on his side with his fingers in his half empty packet of gummies.

“Don’t spill that on my bed,” Wangho warns. His friend grunts in response.

“Yeah. We just cleaned our sheets after Jaewan was being judgmental about our state of cleanliness last week,” Junsik adds on.

“Wow, Wangho cleans,” Jinseong teases.

Wangho makes a noise of annoyance. He opens his Instagram app and snaps a picture of Jinseong on his bed, captioning it with the words ‘stop invading our room’, tagging the other two boys in his story post.

“Don’t call me out like that,” Jinseong complains, having checked his phone the moment the notification appeared. “I’m an honorary roommate.”

“Honorary, my ass,” Junsik jokes, finally pulling off the lid of his instant noodle cups, the strong smell wafting across the room. “Let’s eat.”

Jinseong rolls off Wangho’s bed immediately, grabbing his rice box and sitting on the spare stool Seunghoon had given to them as a Christmas present after a whole year of complaining about the lack of place to sit in their room.

Wangho digs in, chewing slowly at the warm rice. The spiciness is good, and the chicken bits are just the right texture. They eat in silence for the first five minutes, sipping at their beer cans occasionally.

“I had a fight with my roommate, actually,” Jinseong says, breaking the silence. “He got mad at me for spilling water on his sheets.”

“Dude,” Junsik says. “Go apologise and change his sheets for him, and it’ll be fine.”

“I blew up at him for no reason when he raised his voice at me. I kind of took my frustrations out on him.”

“Sangho?” Wangho says. “Since when does he raise his voice?”

“I think he’s just tired today,” Jinseong says, suddenly turning his phone the other way to face the screen downwards. It continues to buzz.

“Is that him calling you?” Wangho asks, gulping down his beer. Jinseong nods, but continues to pick at his box of rice.

“Answer the call, I bet he’s worried,” Junsik says, swapping out his now empty cup of noodles for the other one, stirring at the broth with his chopsticks.

“Nah,” Jinseong replies. “I’ll just give him a pack of gummies as an apology later and change his sheets. He’ll be fine, I think.”

Wangho agrees with that idea. “Hurry up and finish your food, then. We’re kicking you out of the room as soon as you’re done.”

“Wow, you don’t love me?” Jinseong replies, putting on his most hurt look.

Wangho stops chewing midway. “Definitely don’t,” he replies. They continue eating in silence, Wangho occasionally prodding at Jinseong’s ankle lightly with his foot to get him to stop picking at his food. “I’m nearly done and you’re still not, and we all know I'm a slow eater,” he says. “Come on, hurry up.”

“Okay, fine,” Jinseong sighs, shoveling the remaining rice into his mouth and chugging down his beer.

“You done? Now get out and go apologise to that poor freshman roommate of yours,” Junsik comments, stacking his now empty cups of instant noodles and dropping his empty beer can into the empty cup on top. “Take out the trash for us on the way.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jinseong replies, gathering all the trash into a plastic bag. “Bye,” he says, kicking lightly at Wangho’s leg. He holds the plastic bag in one hand and his unopened pack of gummies in the other.

Wangho watches as he slips on his slippers and opens the door after much struggle. “Get back safely,” Wangho calls out. Jinseong grins at him before closing the door.


	6. Vibe check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally the weekend again, and Wangho hangs out with Junsik, Seunghoon and Jaewan. He also finds out something major about Sanghyeok from Seunghoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to 1TEAM's "VIBE" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/6hhE4i4aHPQCd46SIKB7gk?si=pQ0TDbg2Qi2rvxE8zUUbEg)

Junsik’s annoying alarm tone blares out, cutting through the peace of the silent dormitory.

Wangho groans, flopping his arm over to feel around for his penguin plush toy. He finds it, and with all his might, he lifts it and flings it across the room, where it lands on his roommate with a loud thud.

“Fuck!” Junsik yells, waking up immediately. “What the heck, Wangho?”

“Switch off your alarm,” Wangho grumbles, finally sitting up and rubbing at his eyes groggily.

Junsik suddenly gets up, switching off the alarm quickly. “Shit, we’re supposed to meet Huni and Jaewan at 11, aren’t we?”

Wangho glances quickly at the clock on the wall. “Fuck, we have fifteen minutes.” He clambers clumsily out of bed. “I get dibs on the bathroom!”

His roommate makes a noise of displeasure, but settles for opening his closet to pick his own outfit out. “Hurry up, then.”

Wangho rushes into the tiny bathroom with his towel in his hand, stripping off his clothes to slip into the shower. It’s cold, the heater working slowly, but he does his best to ignore it and haphazardly scrubs at his hair with his shampoo, which he unhappily notes is nearly finished. He squirts out some body soap and lathers it on, just to make sure he smells decent.

He washes all the soap suds off, and grabs his towel to dry himself off. With his towel wrapped around his lower body, he squeezes out toothpaste from the tube and brushes his teeth quickly.

“Get out, I want to shower too,” Junsik yells from outside. Wangho grunts and rinses his mouth.

He gets out of the bathroom in a record-breaking time, Junsik shoving him lightly to enter the bathroom, not even batting an eye at his state of undress.

Wangho puts on his clothes and switches on his hairdryer in a poor attempt to get his hair to be less wet. He ruffles his hair with his fingers, letting the dryer do its work.

Five minutes later, his hair is semi-dry and Junsik is out of the bathroom, now pulling on a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt. “Ready?”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” Wangho replies, looking into the mirror to style his hair. His roommate takes the time to dry his own hair with the dryer.

“Let’s go,” Junsik finally says, looking down at his phone, presumably at their group chat. Satisfied, Wangho grabs his phone and wallet, and slips on a pair of socks that he had thankfully remembered to hang out to dry after getting his weekly laundry done.

They wear their shoes, and Wangho locks the door behind them while Junsik walks ahead to press the lift button. The pair walk into the lift, looking down at their respective phones to respond to Seunghoon’s constant messages.

“I can feel his impatience from here,” Junsik mutters under his breath. The lift opens, and they walk out of the building.

“Over here,” Jaewan calls out, waving. They lightly jog over to where the other two are waiting, right at the entrance of their dormitory building.

“Let’s go eat already. I’m hungry from waiting,” Seunghoon complains, slinging his arm around Wangho.

“Technically, we’re on time,” Junsik remarks cheekily, lightly nudging Jaewan in the shoulder. The other boy sighs.

The four of them make their way to the bus stop. The weather is nice today, the breeze gentle and the sunlight shining down. “I need a new wallet and shampoo,” Wangho announces.

“And a life, while you’re at it,” Junsik teases. Wangho glares at his roommate.

“Jaewan-hyung, Junsik keeps bullying me,” he says, turning on his cute voice. “Punch him for me!”

“You little shit,” Jaewan says to Junsik, completely falling for the younger boy’s trap. “I won’t play support for you on League anymore.”

“He doesn’t even call me ‘hyung’! He’s being a complete brat,” Junsik defends himself. Wangho laughs and sticks out his tongue childishly.

“You said I didn’t need to,” Wangho justifies, now hiding behind Seunghoon. Junsik reaches out and punches him softly, careful not to use too much force.

To their immense luck, the bus arrives just as they reach the bus stop. The four of them queue up and enter, scanning their individual transit cards to pay for the fee. They shuffle in, gripping on to the railing handles as the bus starts moving.

It takes them fifteen minutes to reach their destination, Seunghoon and Junsik having launched into a conversation in English. Wangho has completely no idea what they are saying, so he talks to Jaewan about Hearthstone and stupid plays he’s done on League. The older boy responds warmly, adding in his own comments occasionally.

They get down from the bus and congregate at the corner of the bus stop. “Where shall we eat?” Jaewan asks. Seunghoon thinks for a moment.

“Burgers?” He suggests, looking at the other three. They quickly agree, and begin walking towards Seunghoon’s favourite burger place at the mall, now a familiar place.

The place is bustling. Jaewan and Wangho eventually find an empty table while Junsik and Seunghoon queue up to order their food. Wangho drags over a chair from someone else’s table after politely asking for permission, making sure they now have four chairs in total. It doesn’t take long for the food to come and for the four of them to start digging in.

“Oh, did you manage to meet Sanghyeok-hyung that day?” Seunghoon asks, chewing on his fries. “He came home before I did and was sleeping, so I didn’t ask him about it and I forgot later on.”

Junsik looks alarmed, turning to look at both Seunghoon and his roommate. “Wait. You know that guy?” he asks, frowning.

“Yeah. I never told you all, did I? He’s my roommate. We started rooming together this semester.”

“Isn’t he like, batshit insane?” Jaewan remarks. “Or at least that’s what the rumours say. I heard he punched two people so hard that their noses broke.”

Wangho cuts in quickly. “He’s actually really nice, though,” he comments, sipping on his soda.

Seunghoon hums. “That part of the rumour is true. But what you didn’t know is that I was there when he punched the guys,” he laughs, taking a big bite out of his burger. “He fucked up his own knuckles because of that, and for a month I was indebted to him.”

Wangho’s eyes widen. “What happened? Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Long story,” Seunghoon replies, his mouth half full. “But before I was friends with you guys, I was actually friends with some other guys in my course. We got into an argument because I had to do all the work for a project while they did nothing. So naturally I told them it was unfair for me to do everything, and we argued and never hung out after that.”

“Wow, they’re assholes,” Junsik comments angrily. Jaewan nods in agreement.

“Yeah, well. I met Sanghyeok-hyung this semester because I had to change roommates since I didn’t want to room with one of those assholes any more. One day when we were going out to get dinner, those guys cornered us and started yapping away. I literally blinked and suddenly he was punching those guys in the face.”

“You should have told us,” Wangho protests. “Those guys are such assholes.”

Seunghoon shrugs. “I just met you all by chance at the beginning of the year party. I can’t just randomly tell you guys these things until we get closer.”

Junsik dips his fries in the chilli sauce, holding it up. “So why didn’t he clear up the rumours?”

“I don’t think he cares,” Seunghoon replies, finishing the last of his burger and crumpling up the wrapper noisily. “I asked him why, and he said it was easier to walk around crowded areas in school when everyone basically avoided him like plague.”

Wangho laughs. “That sounds like him.”

Junsik narrows his eyes at his roommate. “So how do you know him?”

“Remember that time he picked up my keychain when it dropped? We met up a few times after that by chance, and then we started becoming close,” Wangho explains, his half-eaten burger still in his hand. Seunghoon eyes at it hungrily, but eats his own fries instead.

“And he’s nice to you?” Junsik asks, still frowning, but notably less.

He nods. “Of course! He bought me coffee the other day. And we text often.”

“Fine, then. He sounds like a decent guy,” Junsik replies, now appeased.

“He is,” Seunghoon agrees. “He’s like, a nerdy dude who likes playing games and reading. I didn’t even know he had it in him to punch that hard.”

Jaewan laughs. “Sounds like some comic where the nerd turns out to be a super scary dude in disguise.” They all burst into laughter.

“Anyway,” Seunghoon changes the subject, turning to look at Wangho. What was it that you owed him?”

Wangho chews on his burger slowly, deliberately wanting to prolong his time. “Well,” he says, and sips his soda again. “You know how I get cold easily? I was waiting for my friend at the bleachers the other day. Sanghyeok-hyung came over and started talking to me. Then he gave me his jacket because I was cold,” he explains, averting his eyes away and staring down at the remnants of his burger.

Jaewan whistles. “What a stud. Punches two guys to save his friend’s reputation, and offers his jacket whenever people are cold?”

“But he gets cold easily,” Seunghoon remarks, suspicious. “He’s that kind of guy who gets cold when the air conditioner is on, so I have to use a personal fan when he gets too cold.”

“Doesn’t that make him better? Wow,” Jaewan carries on. “He offered his jacket even though he was probably cold too. I like this guy already! You have my blessings, Wangho.”

Wangho nearly chokes on his drink. “We’re just friends,” he clarifies vehemently. “I like girls.”

“Okay,” Junsik says, placatingly. “And that’s fine too.” Jaewan gets the hidden message, and changes the topic quickly. They finish eating, Wangho finally devouring the remnants of his fries. The four stop by the washroom before heading into the mall.

Seunghoon slings his arm around Wangho again as they walk around aimlessly, occasionally entering clothing shops. “Treat him nicely,” he whispers under his breath, soft enough for the other two not to hear. “I won’t be happy if you guys fought over anything.”

“I’m always nice,” Wangho says, but mentally jots down the warning into his brain. “And he’s always nice to me too.”

Seunghoon grins. “Good.”

Eventually they manage to get a bunch of items — Jaewan gets a new mousepad and Wangho buys a new wallet and a new bottle of shampoo while forcing Junsik to buy his own bottle so they wouldn’t have to share. Seunghoon manages to buy a new shirt at half the original price.

They pile into the corner booth at a nearby cafe, laughing and being public nuisances until the staff kicks them out. Wangho loves his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Jaewan once mentioned in an interview that Sanghyeok gets cold easily, so they had to turn off the fan and suffer in the heat whenever Sanghyeok complained about being cold.  
> (2) Jaewan also mentioned on his stream that Junsik usually doesn't use curse words, but I figured it would be strange not to swear out of shock when you get hit with a plush toy first thing in the morning.


	7. Catch some dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho meets Sanghyeok at three in the morning. He spills his negative feelings out, and Sanghyeok listens patiently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter: do not read if you are uncomfortable with descriptions of anxiety.
> 
> Please listen to We Are The Night’s "Dreamcatcher" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/6Jx06CqjXLM7VYljqkCRcL?si=e-chZDHUTxOF5lxyHYrOYg)

Wangho lays on his stomach, scrolling through his social media restlessly. His roommate is fast asleep, snoring softly into his pillow. The air conditioning is on at full blast.

His heart feels so, so heavy, the familiar weight now back in his chest. The time on his phone shows it’s three in the morning. He pulls on his windbreaker over his shirt and grabs his keys before slipping into his pair of slippers. After making sure he has locked the door, he pads down the hallway of the dormitories. 

It’s a particularly colder night. He presses the lift button and stretches his arms out, feeling the cool night air against the smooth material of his windbreaker. The lift arrives at the seventh floor rather quickly, and he takes it down to the first floor.

The sand on the ground crunches beneath his slippers when he walks out of the building, nodding at the security guard when he passes by the guard room at the entrance of the building. He breathes in, and walks down the road towards the garden located on the far left of the building. The restlessness escalates, the feeling tight and wedged in his chest. He times his breathing right, forcing himself to breathe regularly.

He pulls out his phone and spontaneously clicks open his messaging application. 'Hyung', he types out into the chatbox. 'Are you awake?'.

The reply comes almost instantly. 'Yes, but you shouldn’t be.'

Wangho laughs to himself as he sits on a bench, forcing himself to focus on the chat box. 'I’m at the garden next to dorm block C.'

'Why?' is Sanghyeok's reply, and then: 'Stay there, I'll be there in ten minutes.'

Wangho smiles and sends a cute sticker of an animated cat dancing. He leans back, looking up at the dark sky, the air in Korea so polluted he can't even see the stars from here. He scrolls through their chat history, stupidly grinning whenever he comes across something funny the older boy had previously shared with him.

It doesn’t take Sanghyeok ten minutes to reach the garden, considering that his shared dormitory room with Seunghoon is located in the building right across block C. Wangho hears footsteps, and opens his eyes.

“Hi, hyung,” he greets, patting the space next to him on the bench. Sanghyeok quiet sits down, stretching out his thin and long legs, clad in a pair of jogger pants.

“Do you have ten of the same shirt?” Wangho asks, frowning. “You’re always wearing white.”

Sanghyeok smirks. “More than fifteen, but they’re all from different brands.”

“I swear you were wearing this the other day at the cafe,” Wangho replies, pinching the sleeve of the white shirt to inspect the material.

“That was Champion, this is Nike,” Sanghyeok says, humour in his voice.

Wangho grins. “Never took you to be the type who likes brands.”

The older boy shakes his head. “I don’t. I just care about whether it’s white or not.” He flicks Wangho’s fingers away from his shirt. “Don’t ruin it.”

“You’re so mean,” he pouts at the older boy. “Lighten up, hyung.”

“This is the brightest I’ll ever get,” Sanghyeok says, completely deadpan. It makes Wangho giggle, amazed at just how much the other boy can make him laugh.

They sit in silence. The beating in Wangho’s chest does not get slower despite the company. “Hyung,” he breaks the silence. “Have you ever felt absolutely shitty for no reason?”

“Of course,” Sanghyeok says. “We’re stuck in university trying to find what we want to do for the rest of our lives.” Wangho hums in agreement.

“Recently, I’ve been in a slump,” he mutters, trying to word his feelings out without scaring away the other boy. “I can’t sleep well, I can’t keep up with classes, and there’s just so much work to do in so little time.” Sanghyeok stares at him, a neutral expression on his face.

“Want to talk about it?” Sanghyeok asks softly, changing his tone to a gentle one. “You can tell me. I’ll listen.”

Wangho takes a deep breath. “Ever since I left home and started living in university, I’ve just been floating in between classes. I know I’m not doing badly, but I’m not doing well either. And it sucks, because I’m stuck in the middle of the bracket and I don’t belong in either.” He pauses, instantly regretting sharing his feelings, a feeling of uncertainty flooding his chest. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be dragging you out here just to tell you these things. Let’s talk about something else.”

“No,” Sanghyeok responds, leaning back to rest his weight on his hands. “Keep talking. I want to listen.”

Something bubbles in Wangho’s stomach, something so sickening and twisted. “You know that feeling when you have to smile all the time but you don’t want to, but you still smile anyway and it makes you feel even worse?”

The older boy nods. “It’s a cycle, isn’t it,” he remarks, tilting his head to the side, eyes still trained on Wangho. It’s comforting, his eyes like tide pools. Wangho wants to drown in them.

He snaps out of it, and turns away. “Yeah,” he whispers. He takes a deep breath, and exhales, now calmer. “I’ll figure things out. It’ll be fine.”

“I’ll help you every step of the way,” Sanghyeok says. “You don’t need to smile around me if you don’t feel like it. Text me any time you want to talk. I’ll come over.”

Something in him breaks, like a glass vase shattering. Wangho blinks away the sudden tears in his eyes, a stray tear escaping and rolling down his cheek. “Fuck, why am I crying,” he laughs at himself, wiping at his cheek quickly. He feels a comforting hand resting at the back of his head, and turns to look at Sanghyeok.

“It’s okay to cry,” Sanghyeok says softly. “I won’t laugh at you.” 

Wangho turns away, completely embarrassed. “Hyung, you’re making me cry,” he accuses jokingly, pressing the sleeves of his windbreaker against his closed eyes to pat away the tears. He sighs, and tries to calm himself down. “I’m okay, hyung. Thank you.”

The hand on his head strokes through his hair gently, snapping him out of his daze. “Ready to go back and sleep? I’ll walk you back.”

“Yeah,” Wangho mumbles. He stands up and stretches his arms. The feeling is less burdensome, his chest feeling lighter. “Thank you for listening, hyung.”

“You’re always welcome,” Sanghyeok says simply, standing up as well. “Always come to me, okay?”

Wangho’s heart positively leaps at that statement, something in between his rib cage stirring. He pushes it away. “Okay, hyung,” he answers breezily. In the moment, he links his arm around Sanghyeok’s, and leans close as they walk back to Wangho’s dormitory.

They walk slowly, the breeze ruffling their hair slightly. Wangho leans close, closer than he should, but Sanghyeok doesn’t seem to mind. “Seunghoon-hyung told me about why you punched those two guys,” he brings up, remembering the conversation he had two weeks ago with Seunghoon, Junsik and Jaewan. “That’s really nice of you, hyung.”

Sanghyeok hums. “Here I was wondering why you weren’t afraid of me when I picked up your keychain for you.”

“Oh, well,” Wangho hesitates. “I was actually kind of scared when you called out to me so suddenly, but I thought you were really kind. Junsik was scared of you, though.”

“Your roommate, right?” Sanghyeok asks. Wangho nods. “He could probably beat me to death,” he comments. “I go to the school gym only once a week. He looks bulky.”

“Nah, Junsik is a weak shit, I beat him at arm wrestling all the time. And the famous Demon King can defeat anyone, even with a weight or height disadvantage,” he teases. Sanghyeok elbows him gently.

“Don’t be a brat,” he says, swinging open the glass door to the dormitory building. They enter, and Wangho waves at the security guard, who flashes a thumbs up and tells them to have a good night. They enter the lift lobby, feeling much warmer indoors.

“Can’t believe I was intimidated by you the first time we met,” Wangho continues his teasing. “Who knew that the Demon King is actually a gigantic softie who reads all day and plays games like a nerd?”

Sanghyeok rolls his eyes, flicking his finger at Wangho’s head lightly. “Stop that. Do you want to suffer by my hands?”

“The Demon King will make me suffer?” Wangho teases. “Is that so?”

The older boy makes a sound of annoyance, entering the lift as soon as the doors open. “Say that again and I’m going to strangle you.”

Wangho presses the button for the seventh floor. “Is that so?” he cheekily repeats in a patronising tone, immediately moving away and assuming a defensive position. He laughs at Sanghyeok’s unamused expression.

“I’m older than you, respect your elders,” the older boy bops Wangho’s head lightly with his knuckles. Wangho grins, and wraps his arms around the older boy’s left arm.

“Okay, I’ll stop,” he laughs, cuddling up to the older boy. “So don’t get mad, hyung.” The lift reaches the seventh floor, and they walk out. Wangho pulls the other boy to his dormitory room, stopping right at the door.

“Thank you for accompanying me, hyung,” he says sincerely, unwrapping his arms from Sanghyeok’s left arm.

He swears he sees a tiny, tiny smile on the older boy’s face, but it disappears as soon as Wangho blinks. “Good night, Wangho-ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) In an SKT’17 video, Sanghyeok beat Wangho at arm wrestling.  
> (2) Back in 2017, Wangho and Huni often ganged up on Sanghyeok to tease him. In Wangho’s drunk stream, he mentions having made Sanghyeok absolutely huffy because of their constant use of the phrase “is that so” in a tone one would use when talking to a child.


	8. It's a triangle, and this isn't about pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho drowns in school assignments. Sanghyeok personally shows up to his dorm with dinner. Jinseong drops by at the same time, and meets Sanghyeok in person for the first time. Junsik is there for the free show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for 200 hits!
> 
> Please listen to Day6's "Sweet Chaos" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/499qjESUqiZjlNI7XQhyLp?si=tnRRoVhZRCW6m7Ec3Sh5gw)

Wangho is seated at his study table, stacks of papers messily strewn around. Junsik is lounging on his own bed, laptop resting on his belly as he types out his report slowly.

“Fuck, I’m so hungry and I’m so fucking stressed,” Wangho yells out, standing up abruptly. His old roller chair squeaks at his movement. Junsik sits up at his outburst, setting his laptop next to him in the bed.

“You can’t write that report?” Junsik asks sympathetically. “Don’t you have two reports due on the same day in two weeks’ time?”

Wangho sighs. “And they’re both equally important. I’m so close to pulling my hair out,” he groans, flopping onto his bed dramatically. “I just want to eat my sadness away.”

His phone dings as soon as he says this. He stretches his arm out to grab his phone off his nightstand. 

‘Want to get food with me?’ Sanghyeok’s message shows up on Wangho’s screen. Wangho grins, typing out an eager ‘yes’, but then remembers that he has a report to work on. He groans again, making a noise that doesn’t bother Junsik much — his roommate had indeed grown accustomed to his various habits.

‘Actually, no, I can’t make it’ he sends out quickly, complete with a sticker of a weeping animated cat, followed by an explanation that he has to slave away at his two reports.

‘Do you want pizza, fried chicken, or burgers’ is Sanghyeok’s response. Wangho frowns, unsure of why the other boy is asking, but replies to tell him that anything’s fine.

‘I’ll come over in twenty minutes’, Sanghyeok’s message reads, and Wangho squawks ungracefully.

“I need you to clear your shit now and make your side of the room presentable in twenty minutes,” he yells, springing off his bed to start packing his papers into neat piles.

His roommate yawns. “Dude, why? We agreed to pack only every two weeks.”

Wangho growls. “Sanghyeok-hyung is coming over, and I don’t want him to see this mess! Get off your ass and clear it.”

“Like, Lee freaking Sanghyeok? Demon King?” Junsik asks, eyes widened, staring incredulously at his roommate.

“Yeah, so start cleaning before he sees what slobs we are!” Wangho yells in half-panic, picking up his dirty clothes from the floor to dump them into his laundry bag at the entrance of their tiny bathroom.

“How does he even know where our dorm room is? Why’s he coming over?” Junsik asks, now on his feet, picking up his textbooks from the floor.

Wangho grabs the dirty, overflowing plastic bag that they lined their shared bin with, tying it up. “Long story about why he knows our dorm number, but he asked me to go out with him to eat dinner. I told him I can’t because I need to work on my reports, so he’s coming over with food for me, I think?”

His roommate laughs. “Nice. You got yourself a boyfriend?”

“No!” Wangho denies vehemently. “He’s not my boyfriend. I like girls. I told you this. He’s just a friend,” he says, grabbing a clean shirt and a pair of shorts from his closet and changing into them quickly. “Stop saying that.”

“You know, it’s okay to have a boyfriend, right?” Junsik says seriously, stopping his cleaning. The other side of the room already looks better, free of random trash on the floor.

“And I like girls. I don’t want to have this talk now,” he replies. The air freshener is abused, Wangho haphazardly spraying it around the entire room.

“Okay,” Junsik says placatingly. “I’ll just stay on my bed when he gets here. Unless he talks to me, I’ll wear my headphones and blast my music, so you two can talk freely.” The last of his dirty clothes on the floor get shoved into his laundry bag.

“Thanks,” Wangho softens his tone, grateful that his friend did not pursue the topic further. He doesn’t want to think about feelings now.

His roommate lets out a gigantic yawn, flopping back onto his bed. “Whatever,” he says in a tone which Wangho knows is his way of saying “no problem”. 

Wangho smiles to himself. He goes to the bathroom and washes his face and hands, thinking of whether to continue wearing his glasses. He looks at his reflection in the mirror after patting his face dry, and decides not to. His glasses get thrown onto his table, right next to his laptop.

A sharp knock on their door eventually comes. Wangho gets up to open it, kicking aside Junsik’s impressive collection of shoes to make space along the tiny passageway leading towards the door.

“Hi, hyung,” he greets as he swings the door open, but instead comes face to face with Jinseong.

Jinseong raises his brows, grinning. “Did you just call me ‘hyung’?”

“No, no. That was not meant for you,” Wangho hurriedly corrects himself. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I come visit you when I want to?” Jinseong pouts. “I miss you so much.”

Quickly turning away to hide the impending red on his cheeks, Wangho steps aside to let Jinseong kick off his pair of sliders and enter their room. Junsik pulls off his headphones when Jinseong waves frantically at him to get his attention.

“Dude, what are you doing here?” Junsik asks. Wangho presses his own face into his hand, wanting to roll over and cry at the thought of Sanghyeok and Jinseong meeting each other. Both boys, who made his heart beat differently. He pushes that thought away as soon as it comes.

“I missed Wangho,” Jinseong announces straightfowardly, walking back to drape himself over Wangho, pulling him into a hug. “I need my dose of him, or I’m going to run out of battery.”

Wangho laughs, patting his friend’s back, letting himself breathe in his friend’s cologne, the musky smell addictive. Jinseong hums and leans down to tug him close, nuzzling at his nape. From the corner of his vision, Wangho can see his roommate shooting questionable glances at them, but he shuts his eyes and pointedly ignores the staring.

They stand still for more than a minute, breaths coming out in tiny puffs against Wangho’s neck. Telling his heart to calm down, Wangho continues to breathe in the intoxicating scent.

“Wangho-ya,” someone calls from the door.

Turns out, he had forgotten to shut the door. Jinseong perks up at the voice, and Wangho turns his head to see Sanghyeok standing at the door, a big plastic bag in his hand.

“Hey, hyung,” Wangho greets quickly, mentally cursing for letting himself be seen in such a strange position. He tries to pull away from Jinseong’s grasp, but the grip on him stays even as he shifts his body around. He ends up settling for waddling to the door to invite Sanghyeok in while Jinseong clings onto him from behind.

“I’m Park Jinseong, Wangho’s best friend and coursemate in the same year,” Jinseong greets formally, his chest rumbly against Wangho’s back. Wangho tries to get out of the vice-like grip again, but the other boy is stuck to him like a fruit bat to a piece of fruit on a tree.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Lee Sanghyeok,” Sanghyeok says blandly, and looks right at Wangho, obsidian eyes piercing. “I bought food for you and your roommate,” he holds up the plastic bag. He kicks off his pair of Nike sliders and walks into the room.

Junsik greets with a wave, keeping his tone more friendly. “Hi! I’m Bae Junsik, Wangho’s roommate.”

“Hello, I’m Lee Sanghyeok. I bought pizza for you and Wangho. I hope you like meat toppings,” Sanghyeok says, handing the plastic bag over to Wangho. 

Wangho places the bag onto their tiny carpet, deciding it would be better to eat on the floor instead. “Uh, Jinseong,” he says. “Let go of me?” His heart pounds as Sanghyeok sits on the floor, staring up at him. He feels the warmth on his back fade away as Jinseong sits down right next to Sanghyeok.

“Come sit here,” Jinseong says, patting the empty space on his right. Junsik slides off his bed and sits on Sanghyeok’s left. Sighing, Wangho sits down in between his roommate and his best friend.

“Thanks for buying, sunbae-nim! Surely you won’t mind if I eat as well, right?” Jinseong says. Wangho’s beginning to think he’s trying to piss their senior off. He elbows his best friend.

Sanghyeok turns away dismissively. “Help yourself.”

Junsik grins, already opening one of the boxes to reveal a gigantic meat pizza. “Nice! Thank you,” he mumbles out, already chewing on a piece. “You are so giving!”

“You can talk to me informally. Wangho told me you’re the same age as me,” Sanghyeok says, pulling a piece of the pizza and handing it over to Wangho’s hands. Wangho blinks, and smiles.

“Great! Let’s be friends,” Junsik cheers around a mouthful of pizza. Sanghyeok smirks, pulling out three bottles of soda from the bag, and a box of chicken drumsticks and cheese sticks. He opens the bottles and sets one right in front Wangho and Junsik respectively. He leaves the last bottle unopened in front of himself.

“Hyung, please eat too,” Wangho protests in between his mouthful of pizza. Jinseong suddenly rests his head on Wangho’s left shoulder, making him jump a little.

“Okay, Wangho-ya,” Sanghyeok says. He nibbles on a cheese stick, watching Junsik devour a piece of drumstick.

“Hey man, Huni told us the story behind you punching the two guys,” Junsik brings up. The bottle of soda in front of him is quickly reduced to being half full. “That was super nice of you.”

Sanghyeok hums. “No problem at all.”

“I’ll have to admit, I thought you were batshit insane. I was going to piss my pants when you called out to us to hand Wangho back his keychain,” Junsik comments.

Wangho snickers, remembering the look of horror that was on his friend’s face. “Junsik said we were lucky to have survived that encounter!” He pulls up a piece of drumstick, savouring the slightly spicy seasoning.

“Wow, I’m honoured,” Sanghyeok says, pulling off a piece of pizza. “I think you could beat me up, though.”

Junsik burst into laughter. “I don’t know about that. Even Wangho beats me at arm wrestling,” he confesses.

Silence fills the room after, the only sounds coming from the four boys’ constant chewing. The pizza is a miserable single triangle left, and Wangho happily munches on the last cheese stick. Jinseong playfully steals a bite and helps himself to Wangho’s bottle of soda.

“I guess I could beat someone up if I was really angry,” Sanghyeok says abruptly, his tone frosty. Junsik nervously looks back and forth between Sanghyeok and Jinseong, sensing something was off.

“Hyung, don’t say it like that,” Wangho jokes, trying to ease away any tension. “Finish the last slice of pizza, hyung?”

Sanghyeok’s gaze softens, the anger behind obsidian eyes now fading away. “Are you full?”

“Yeah,” Wangho replies. Junsik gestures for Sanghyeok to take the last slice, and promptly closes the empty box as soon as the last slice of pizza is taken up. He leans back against his own bed, sipping at the remnants of his soda. Wangho finishes his cheese stick and sighs in satisfaction, careful not to jostle the brown mop of hair occupying his shoulder.

“How much should we pay you, hyung?” Wangho ask, finally wiping his hand with a napkin, gathering up the empty boxes and dropping them into the plastic bag. 

“My treat,” Sanghyeok replies simply.

Junsik grins from ear to ear at this, chugging down the last of his soda and throwing it into the plastic bag as well. “Ah, our benevolent saviour,” he jokes. “We would have died of starvation without you, but now we are fed and we can work on our reports again.”

Wangho groans. “I forgot about my reports for a while,” he complains. He nudges Jinseong off his shoulder as he gathers the remaining soda bottles and drops them into the bag before tying it up. “The bathroom’s here if you want to wash your hands, hyung!”

He walks into their tiny bathroom, both Jinseong and Sanghyeok following after him immediately. Wangho blinks, unused to the crowd in the bathroom. 

“Let’s go out, Junsik needs to wash his hands too,” Wangho says as soon as they’re done washing their hands. Jinseong lingers weirdly, pressing himself onto Wangho’s back once again. They settle into a strange waddle again, Junsik shooting Wangho another look as he walks past to wash his hands.

“Thank you so much, hyung! You should probably head off now, you’ve wasted so much time on us,” Wangho says to Sanghyeok. “You too, Jinseong. Go finish your report,” he instructs, tugging away from his friend’s grip.

“Okay, then,” Sanghyeok replies, and pats Wangho’s head lightly. The action makes Wangho’s body feel warm, his heartbeat quickening at the gesture. “Text me tomorrow?”

“I will,” he says as they walk to the door. Sanghyeok grabs the plastic bag, and also grabs their dirty plastic bag from the bin.

“You don’t need to throw that for us,” Wangho says in alarm, reaching out to grab the plastic bag back.

Sanghyeok shakes his head as he slips his feet into his sliders. “Don’t worry about it. Focus on your assignments. Bye, Wangho-ya,” he says softly, and then raises his voice to say goodbye to Junsik, who yells his thanks from the bathroom. Wangho watches as the older boy leaves.

He turns back to his best friend. “What was that about, Jinseong?”

“What?” Jinseong asks with an innocent tone.

“The whole — never mind,” Wangho replies in resignation. “Go on, go back to your room.”

“Bye, babe,” Jinseong says. He squishes Wangho’s cheeks before walking away with his hands in his pockets. Wangho sighs and shuts the door.

Junsik is back on his own bed, patting his belly in happiness. “That was intense,” he comments.

“Tell me about it. Jinseong was trying to piss Sanghyeok-hyung off, wasn’t he,” Wangho mutters, walking back to his ugly-looking chair. It squeaks when he sits down.

“I think they both like you,” Junsik says seriously, sitting up. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. It was obvious.”

“I told you, I’m not interested in boys. Cut it out,” Wangho responds sharply.

Junsik shrugs. “Suit yourself. But if you want to talk, I’m always here,” he says, wearing his headphones again.

Wangho stares down at his laptop, and boots it up again with a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Jinseong was being a little shit — he sat next to Sanghyeok so Wangho wouldn't sit there.  
> (2) Did you all catch the way Sanghyeok got super pissy after Jinseong stole a bite of Wangho’s food?  
> (3) Junsik for best roommate award 2020.


	9. Slow down now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junsik stays over at Jaewan’s single dorm, so Wangho gets to play League with Sanghyeok till the early hours of the morning. They play till 4 a.m., and Wangho wakes up twenty minutes before his noon class. Sanghyeok picks him up from class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to 53 Thieves’ “three a.m.” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/4snTfg1mMurCtt5dixC22A?si=uJ3-SrRsQ5u2BM3cmrJnWw)

It’s comforting, hearing Sanghyeok’s voice over the line at one in the morning. His voice is pretty like the rest of him, all soft in the middle and sharp around the edges, guarded and protected. Wangho snaps out of his thoughts when his Lee Sin gets the blue buff, and makes his way over to another jungle camp.

“Hyung, I’ll be level three soon, want me to gank?”

“Come here, then. Watch out for wards,” Sanghyeok instructs comfortably. Wangho finishes his camp and hits level three, carefully hiding in the unwarded brush near the river. He flits back and forth, waiting patiently as Sanghyeok baits out the enemy Syndra. He checks on the other lanes in the meantime.

“Now,” the older boy’s voice comes over the line. Wangho connects his sonic wave, fingers practiced and at ease, and they pile onto her, with Sanghyeok claiming the kill.

“Good boy,” Sanghyeok says, his tone teasing. “My servant jungler.”

Wangho’s cheeks heat up. “Don’t say things like that,” he chokes out. He recalls back to base, and takes the opportunity to take a big gulp of water from his cup. He ends up ganking mid again after he clears out his jungle, and their toplaner sends multiple pings at him, presumably angry at the lack of attention.

“Wow, I have so much attention from my jungler for once,” Sanghyeok remarks. Wangho coughs, and navigates his Lee Sin up top, clearing out wards on the way. He dives under the enemy tower and tanks the tower hits as their toplaner secures the kill.

They end up going through two consecutive losses after that match, ending their winning streak. The score board for the night is at three wins and two loses. “We have to win this one,” Wangho declares. “I can’t sleep on a loss.”

“So competitive,” Sanghyeok says. Wangho can practically hear the smirk in his voice. They enter the pick and ban phase, and Wangho bans away Reksai, hovering over his Lee Sin as soon as it’s his turn to pick. Sanghyeok flashes a few champions, humming.

“Carry me. Play LeBlanc,” Wangho commands. “Don’t troll, hyung. I’ll get mad.”

The laughter over the line reveals the older boy’s amusement. It sounds unbelievably pretty over Sanghyeok’s scratchy microphone, and it’s the first time Wangho has heard a genuine laugh from the older boy. “We should play bot lane together one day. I’m a great support.”

“Your Blitzcrank has a win rate of twenty percent,” Wangho says in deadpan. “The numbers don’t lie.”

“I always meet bad AD carries, they’re all bad at eating minions,” Sanghyeok replies, trying to justify his win rate. “I swear I’m good,” he says, but the hidden laughter behind his serious voice is all too evident.

“If you carry this game, we can play Xayah-Rakan together next time,” he suggests, ignoring the way his heart thumps at the thought of Sanghyeok’s champion twirling around his.

“Deal.”

They win the match in twenty minutes, the enemy team surrendering after the third time Sanghyeok’s LeBlanc solo-kills someone. Wangho goes to sleep with a smile on his face, snuggling into warm sheets.

Morning arrives quickly, and Wangho wakes up to his alarm tone blasting out. Groggy, he reaches to hit the snooze button, but his eyes widen when he realises he’s slept through his nine other alarms.

It’s eleven-forty, and he has ten minutes to wash up and ten minutes to speed run to the Business Building. “Oh fuck,” he mutters, speedily getting ready to head out.

After locking his door, he double-checks for his laptop in his bag just before entering the lift, sighing in relief when he realises he had packed his charger as well. The lift creaks, moving him slowly to the first floor. The security guard waves at him when he dashes out of the dormitory building.

The weather is nice, slightly more colder in the middle of February. He puffs as he jogs, thanking himself for wearing his trusty pair of Adidas shoes that Junsik had gifted to him as a birthday present. He spots his classmate waving from ahead, and breaks out into a run to catch up to him.

His classmate, Kanghui, grins. “What’s up, man?”

“We have five minutes to get to class, why are you still strolling?” Wangho pants out, grabbing his arm to pull him into a jog.

Kanghui lazily brisk walks. “The weather is too nice to be in a rush,” he complains, but they end up jogging the rest of the way to class. They get there a minute late, but the Professor is still not in class. Wangho huffs and plops himself down onto the black chair, booting up his laptop quickly.

“Did you read in advance for this class?” Kanghui asks.

Wangho nods, taking deep breaths to settle his breathing pace. “Kind of. I skimmed through everything last weekend.”

“Ugh, I’m going to be lost in class today. Help me out if the Professor picks on me?” Kanghui pleads, tugging on Wangho’s sleeve.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies distractedly, opening his League client on his laptop. Sanghyeok is online, presumably queueing for a game.

A message pops up on his screen, ‘aren’t you supposed to be in class?’.

Wangho types quickly, dimming his screen brightness as the Professor walks into class, ‘I am.’

‘Want to get an early dinner together later? I’ll wait for you outside your class.’

The simple message makes me smile, and Kanghui nudges him. “What are you smiling at? Are you messaging your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Wangho denies hurriedly. “Just making dinner plans with a friend.”

Kanghui turns away, now interested in fiddling with a strange indie game on his screen. The Professor boots up the projector and screen, pulling up the slides for the class. Wangho takes the chance to type out his classroom number and the time he ends class.

The reply comes quick. ‘Study hard, I’ll see you later.’

It puts another smile on his face, and he exits the League client and pulls up an empty document to type down his class notes.

A gruelling three and a half hours later, the Professor walks out of class. Wangho immediately packs his belongings, shoving them messily into his bag. He sighs when he realises the book his Professor had given out would not be able to fit into his bag.

“Why are you in a rush?” Kanghui asks curiously, throwing his belongings into his own bag.

“Someone is waiting for me,” Wangho says. He looks up, spots Sanghyeok waiting by the open classroom door, and waves excitedly. “Hyung!”

Sanghyeok looks up from his phone and waves back. Wangho’s wrist is grabbed by Kanghui quickly. He turns, confused.

“You know the Demon King?” his friend whispers, shocked, eyes wide. “What the heck?”

Wangho laughs, now remembering Sanghyeok’s infamous reputation in school. “He’s really nice, actually. We’ve been close for a month or so now.”

Kanghui shudders. “Oh, god. Be careful. I heard he beats people up so much that they have to get hospitalised.”

“Don’t worry, he only did that to two people, and he did that out of necessity,” Wangho says. He decides to carry the book in his hands, and pushes his chair back to stand up. “Bye, Kanghui.”

His classmate still has a visibly worried expression on his face. Wangho ignores it, and walks right up to Sanghyeok, who has managed to make everyone else exit by the other door instead of the one he is standing at. “Hyung, you’re here,” he greets, grinning. He makes a great show out of it, reaching out to curl his right arm around Sanghyeok’s thin waist, pulling him into a hug.

The older boy nods and leans in to the hug like a cat to a head rub. “Wangho-ya,” he greets, his chest rumbly and warm against Wangho’s head.

Wangho slips his right arm around Sanghyeok’s left arm. He looks back at Kanghui, who’s staring at them with his mouth slightly agape, gawking. “Hyung, will you wave to my classmate over there? He’s scared of you. I told him that you’re really nice, though!”

Surprisingly, the older boy complies, obediently waving. Kanghui immediately bows several times in response before making a mad dash out of the classroom through the other door. Wangho bursts out into laughter, gripping onto the older boy for support. “That was too funny. Hyung, aren’t you going to clear up the rumours?”

“No. Let’s go, we can walk around and eat snacks till it’s time for dinner. You haven’t eaten at all today,” Sanghyeok replies, unbothered by Kanghui’s response. He grabs the book from Wangho’s left hand and they walk out of the classroom.

Wangho lets go of the older boy’s arm quickly. “You don’t need to carry it. Hand it back,” he protests. Someone makes a strange ‘eep’ when they walk past. It makes him frown, now not liking the way people were treating Sanghyeok, looking at him in horror. Kanghui’s reactions had been harmless; the looks in the hallway are malicious.

“I want to carry it,” the older boy replies, unaffected by the stares of the people around them, the book held tightly in his right hand. “Makes me feel studious, like I didn’t just spend four hours with you playing games just because my class for today got cancelled.”

They walk out of the building and begin walking towards the train station, Wangho’s classmates scattered away from them, avoiding them actively despite walking in the same direction.

Sanghyeok’s eyelashes flutter prettily in the sunlight. The afternoon sun shines down on dark, dark hair, reflecting off to create a tiny glow like the iridescence of a raven’s wing. Every part of him is pretty, Wangho thinks, from his slender, long fingers to the shape of his lips, always upturned into a tiny smirk. Clad in a nice black and grey Nike hooded sweatshirt, the other boy never looked better.

“Why are you staring?” Sanghyeok turns to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Do I look bad today? I have dark eye circles thanks to you, Mister I-Will-Not-Sleep-Unless-I-Win.”

Wangho giggles, turning away, afraid of his feelings that lay on the tip of his tongue; like if he parted his lips it would spill. He takes a moment to breathe, and turns back to the older boy. “We won that last match thanks to me, though,” he jokes, subtly changing the topic. “My Lee Sin totally saved your LeBlanc from getting dived on.”

“Yeah, and then you invaded too deep into the enemy jungle and got spotted by their ward,” Sanghyeok retorts sarcastically. “Who saved you then?”

Wangho pouts, slipping his right arm around Sanghyeok’s left arm again, the feeling so comfortable that it makes his heart twinge a little. “Okay, you’re the best, hyung,” he teases. His forehead gets flicked gently, bony fingers brushing against his skin.

It’s unfair, how some people are so confident in themselves, how some people got the best looks and the best things handed to them. Wangho envies the way Sanghyeok is a whole lot taller than he is, more confident, more level-headed; he’s envious of so many things that he could put it in a diary and run out of pages.

“I told you to stop staring,” Sanghyeok looks down at him. “Why are you staring?”

They cross the street, the green man shining. “Are you uncomfortable with me staring?” Wangho mutters.

“No, I feel flattered that you would look at me like that,” Sanghyeok says simply. Wangho forgets to breathe, and coughs awkwardly.

He asks softly, forcing himself to look ahead instead. “How do I look at you?”

Sanghyeok lets out a sharp chuckle. It sounds strangely endearing, like a puppy’s first bark. “Figure it out yourself.” Wangho rolls his eyes, shoving his body against Sanghyeok’s lightly.

Sanghyeok doesn’t even budge, and instead laughs at his feeble attempt. “Cute attempt,” he comments.

“I will take that as a compliment,” Wangho replies, huffing. “I’m always getting bullied by you.”

“You’re too easy to bully,” the other boy teases, breaking out into a softer laugh. It makes the pit in Wangho’s stomach warm up.

“You look cute today, hyung,” he blurts out, instantly regretting it. “I mean, nice hoodie. I’ve never seen you wear anything other than a white shirt,” he quickly covers up, trying to correct his blunder.

Sanghyeok looks down at his Nike hooded sweatshirt, the gray and black in a nice block design, and looks back at Wangho’s trembling right arm around his left arm. “Thank you,” he says after a while.

Wangho feels the relief flooding into his system at Sanghyeok’s simple response, and quickly steers the conversation topic away.


	10. It’s easier to say we’re just friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho goes to Jinseong’s soccer match. They go out for dinner, with Jinseong ditching his team in favour of hanging out with Wangho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Chase Atlantic’s “LOVE IS (NOT) EASY” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ejn1yIKNeTkrgpo1JkeFE?si=xqiI4xxTQhKGU042pliL7A)

“And he’s going, he’s running at the speed of light! The ball is right there, and he kicks! But there’s only three seconds left, can he make it? Three, two - it’s a goal!”

Wangho jumps up from his seat, half-screaming, half-yelling in happiness. On the field, Jinseong does his victory run, his teammates all piling on him at the end of it. The crowd goes wild, the cheerleaders enthusiastically ruffling their pom poms. Jinseong slips out from under the mass of limbs and runs to the bleachers, waving at Wangho to join him.

The people on the losing team are all sad, crowding around their coach, but Wangho pays no attention to them as he runs down to give his friend a gigantic hug. He gets lifted up by Jinseong, and as sweaty and gross as his friend is, Wangho can’t find it in himself to care. He slings his arms around his friend’s neck, holding on tightly as Jinseong spins him around in circles.

“You did so good,” he gushes, laughing at being spun around. He’s carefully set down onto the ground, Jinseong’s arm lingering around his waist. “Good job!”

Jinseong grins, his canine tooth poking out. “Thanks to you and your cheering.” The people on the bleachers eventually quieten down, and Jinseong runs back to his team to say thanks to the other team. The closing ceremony is polite, full of handshakes and bowing. Wangho stays behind, sitting on the now emptier bleachers as people file out to exit the school field.

He fiddles with his phone while waiting, having been told by Jinseong to wait for him to take a shower. He leisurely scrolls through his emails, clearing out spam.

“Hey, babe,” he hears a voice call out. Jinseong slides into the seat next to him, smelling like body wash, his dyed hair dripping with excess water. “Aren’t you proud of me?”

“Hey! Yeah, I’m really proud of you. You did so well,” Wangho says, turning off his phone screen, ignoring the way his own heart is beating quickly at the smell of cheap body wash and the close proximity. He pulls the tiny towel out from Jinseong’s grasp, patting off stray droplets from his friend’s forehead. “You’re going to celebrate with your team now, right?”

“Nope,” Jinseong’s answer is quick. “Let’s go get barbecue. My treat.”

Wangho tilts his head in confusion, squeezing fading blond-brown locks using the towel. Jinseong hums, tilting his head further down for Wangho to work easier. “Don’t you have a team celebration dinner to go to?”

“I’m ditching them. I want to celebrate it with you instead,” his friend says, grinning, moving closer. “Let’s go on a date.”

Wangho swears his heart is pounding so hard, he can practically hear his own heartbeat. “You - you - don’t joke like that,” he stutters, momentarily stopping. He resumes his work, pressing the tiny towel against Jinseong’s head gently.

But Jinseong looks up and moves even closer. Wangho’s hand moves away as his cheeks turn hot, and he shifts back a little.

“I’m not joking. Will you go on a date with me?” Jinseong asks softly.

Wangho hears the sincerity in his voice, but takes the coward’s way out, pushing him away awkwardly. “You’re acting strange,” he protests, and stands up, avoiding eye contact. He throws the damp towel onto Jinseong’s lap. “Come on, let’s go eat. I’m hungry,” he laughs, wincing at the fake tone of his own laughter.

Except — except he feels terribly guilty at the way Jinseong stares up at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Okay,” Jinseong finally says, and stands up as well. Wangho feels his friend’s calloused fingers curl around his own fingers, holding his hand lightly. “I’m allowed to do this, right?”

Pulling away and saying no would have been the best thing to do, but Wangho’s stuck in his own head and he can’t force himself to say what he doesn’t actually wish for. So he nods, and holds on lightly.

They walk out of the field together. It’s like a dream, where the blonde princess meets her prince and they walk through the enchanted forest together — except Wangho is no princess, and this isn’t a fairytale. It’s quiet, the school is dark, and the only comfort he has is the same thing that makes his heart beat twice as fast.

“You’re shaking,” Jinseong comments softly, rubbing circles against his skin with his thumb.

Wangho chews on his lower lip anxiously. “I’m kind of cold.” His excuse is a blatant and bold-faced lie, but there’s no response to that. So he matches Jinseong’s walking pace, making sure their clasped hands are hidden between them, hoping that no one would notice two boys holding hands in the late of the night.

“Which place are we going to?” Wangho asks cheerily, trying to change the strange mood raining over them.

To his surprise, Jinseong responds warmly. “Of course we’re going to our usual place.”

“Ah, of course,” Wangho laughs. For some unknown reason, Jinseong’s a particularly big fan of a certain barbecue restaurant. The cuts of meat are ordinary, and beer is the same everywhere. The only thing that’s nice is that the owner is a doting old lady with a son their age, and he always gives Jinseong and Wangho discounts and sneaks them extra side dishes.

Dinner goes smoothly, and Wangho nearly forgets about the little incident. But when Jinseong walks him back to his dormitory room, holding his hand ever so gently again, he feels like the worst human alive.

Jinseong doesn’t say anything else; all he says is a ‘good night’. In fact, Wangho is the one to initiate their usual goodbye hug this time. They stay that way, pressed snug against each other. His head is right at the crook of Jinseong’s neck, and he breathes in the scent of body wash and something that smells so familiar.

And so Wangho’s kept awake that night, the night’s happenings playing again and again in his mind like a broken record as he shuts his eyes and tries to sleep. He thinks to himself, maybe I knew about this all along and I’m just a coward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Wangho recently mentioned on his twitch stream that he is a big fan of soccer and enjoys watching it.  
> (2) Happy belated birthday to our dearest General Teddy!


	11. If it’s not jealousy, then what is it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seunghoon presents his very bright idea to Sanghyeok, Jaewan, Junsik and Wangho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Monsta X’s “Someone’s Someone” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/6qEqNxAkfSEzNa8KdO5ewa?si=Zy1CYDigQWKIsKcrfPy4jQ)
> 
> Thank you all for 300 hits ❤️

“Get up,” Sanghyeok playfully kicks at Jaewan who’s lying on the floor, limbs spread out like a starfish. All he gets in response is a grunt.

“I’m not scared of you, Mr Demon King. You’ve been taking care of Seunghoon so well. I heard you even went over to deliver dinner to Wangho and Junsik. You’re a soft guy,” Jaewan retorts.

Sanghyeok sighs and walks to lean against his own study table, arms crossed, like a child throwing a tiny tantrum. “You’re no fun,” he mumbles. Wangho grins at this, now used to the way Sanghyeok switches back and forth from his serious mood to his playful mood.

“Damn, we should have made these slobs meet us somewhere else,” Seunghoon comments as he exits the bathroom, wiping his hands on his pants. “Jaewan-hyung, please sit on my bed instead.”

The other boy slowly gets up, flopping onto the bed lazily next to Junsik. “So what did you call us here for?”

“I had to rush my readings because of you,” Wangho complains as he struggles to rip open his sweet wrapper. Slender fingers brush against his own to tear at the plastic with ease. He grins up at Sanghyeok gratefully.

“Our university is hosting a League competition,” Seunghoon begins. Wangho can already tell that Junsik is interested, as he props up his body and sits up.

“Is there a prize?” Jaewan asks. “I’m not going to participate if there’s only a shitty prize. I’d rather suffer in solo queue.”

Seunghoon coughs. “Yeah, well. The prize is four hundred thousand won.” This gets Jaewan’s full attention, and he sits up as well, leaning to rest his body weight on Junsik’s left side.

“Holy,” Wangho gasps. “I want to join!”

“It’s a team competition,” Seunghoon hints. “So...”

The room is silent for a couple of seconds as everyone else, save for Seunghoon and Sanghyeok, struggles to connect the dots. Yawning, Sanghyeok moves to sit on his own bed instead while tugging his study chair closer to his bed. Wangho gets wheeled along, thanks to the fact that he’s perched on said chair. He scoots away to make room for Sanghyeok’s feet, letting the older boy stretch his legs off the bed from where he’s sitting.

“Wait, wait,” Junsik says, turning to Sanghyeok. “What role do you play?”

“Mid,” Sanghyeok replies, kicking Wangho lightly with his feet.

Wangho pouts, reaching to smack Sanghyeok’s ankle. He’s already gotten the idea, since he’s been playing League with Sanghyeok these days. “We’re a team, then?”

“Yes!” Seunghoon says enthusiastically. “Think about it, it’s perfect for us! No one needs to role swap, and I play games with Sanghyeok-hyung all the time. Wangho, you’ve been playing games with Sanghyeok-hyung too, haven’t you?”

This earns Wangho a betrayed expression from Junsik. “Dude! You left me to queue alone so you could play with someone else?” Turning towards Sanghyeok, he shakes his fist jokingly at him. “Stop stealing my roommate! You have yours!”

“Oops,” Wangho laughs. “It’s more fun to gank mid.”

Jaewan pats Junsik’s knee dramatically. “There, there. Now you know how betrayed I get whenever you don’t duo with me, and you go frolicking with some other support player.”

“When’s the competition, though?” asks Wangho, pressing away at Sanghyeok’s left leg, massaging lightly with the tips of his fingers.

“We need to register by this Friday, and it’ll be during our one week mid-semester break. They said they won’t accept teams with people below Diamond rank, and it’s a first come first serve basis with a maximum of ten teams,” Seunghoon says. “Are we all in?”

“Heck yeah,” Jaewan cheers. “Go sign us up, Huni! You know all our IDs.”

“We need a team name, though,” Seunghoon announces. “Any ideas?”

Wangho hums. “The Demon King and his servants,” he teases Sanghyeok, earning another kick in response. “I was kidding!”

“Team... Team one?” Sanghyeok suggests. “We want to win, and we’re doing it for the Korean won, so we’ll try our best to be number one. T1 for short.”

“Oh, that’s witty,” Junsik says. Wangho nods in approval.

Jaewan groans. “If it weren’t for the fact that it sounds like a good name, I would have punched you for that pun.”

Sanghyeok just beams in self-satisfaction, grinning like he’s just won the lottery. “Team one it is,” he announces.

“Let’s try out a few custom matches with the other participating teams and see how it works out, then,” suggests Seunghoon. Everyone nods in agreement.

Wangho quickly discovers a few days later that it’s infuriating when everyone’s talking over each other, telling him to gank their respective lanes. “You guys, I can’t be at every place at once,” he reasons.

“You’ve ganked mid lane twice!” Seunghoon yells childishly, in a tone that signals to Wangho that it’s just a joke. Still, it makes him sigh.

“Hold on,” he says. “Enemy jungle at bot side. Just walked over our ward.”

“Jaewan, back off,” Junsik says urgently. They retreat to their turret just as the enemy Elise shows up. “You can go to top lane, Wangho. We’re safe,” Junsik replies. Wangho shifts his view back to top lane, hiding in the brush at the river, waiting patiently for the enemy Lucian to move closer to Seunghoon’s Rumble.

With ease, Wangho lands his sonic wave and jumps right onto the enemy Lucian. Seunghoon sets him on fire, and they get another kill.

“See! You should have gotten here before,” Seunghoon complains childishly again. Wangho laughs, hearing Sanghyeok snigger as well. Jaewan and Junsik manage to kill the enemy Senna, and they cheer as the enemy Tahm Kench retreats with the enemy Elise, health bars low.

“Don’t be jealous that Wangho likes me more,” Sanghyeok says, recalling his Orianna back to their base. “Accept it, and move on.”

Seunghoon lets out a choking noise, pretending to puke. All Wangho wants is for the PC room to suddenly have a tear in the ground so he can jump down to the core of the Earth and blow himself up.

They win the practice match, and they go for dinner together, all squished in a tiny booth. Wangho sits and observes how Sanghyeok is all smiles while joking with Junsik and Jaewan comfortably. He feels a tug on his own heart, but pushes away any thoughts.

It’s normal to feel jealous when someone you know smiles that brightly at other people, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) My school’s gaming club sometimes organises gaming competitions, so thankfully this storyline isn’t too farfetched.  
> (2) Wangho wanting to jump to the core of the Earth to get rid of his feelings by blowing himself up is a big mood.


	12. Who cares, we’re young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the mid semester break week, and Wangho participates in the school’s League competition with Jaewan, Junsik, Sanghyeok and Seunghoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Got7’s “Teenager” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/7fiiia7w18MLmPBcjmxeFJ?si=ihlAO015RTa-bhlpaxmxlA)

“Nervous?” Sanghyeok asks as they crowd into the computer lab, tugging Wangho closer to let someone else squeeze past them. Wangho shakes his head, but places his own hand on his chest to feel how fast his heart is beating.

“I’m nervous, even if you’re not,” Jaewan comments, leaning against Junsik who’s texting away on his phone. Their opponents sneer at them as they push past, and Wangho instantly feels the grip around his waist get tighter.

“Watch it,” Sanghyeok snarls at them. They do shrink back slightly when they see him, but still, they shove past unkindly, nearly knocking over Seunghoon.

Wangho chews on his lip. “I take it back, now I’m getting nervous even though this is just a school competition,” he admits.

Unhelpfully, Sanghyeok tugs his hand away from his own chest. “Calm down,” he whispers, but all Wangho is fixated on is the way Sanghyeok’s fingers are curled around his wrist.

“Can’t,” he mumbles, pressing his face into the sleeve of Sanghyeok’s white shirt. He noses at Sanghyeok’s sleeve, smelling the scent of fresh laundry powder, and momentarily forgets where they are. He only jerks away when Jaewan lets out a loud laugh at whatever Junsik is saying.

“God, I’m so sorry, hyung,” he immediately says, moving away immediately. That is totally not what a friend would do, sniffing at his friend like a gigantic pervert. But Sanghyeok just laughs kindly, tugging him close again.

With his forehead now on Sanghyeok’s shoulder again, he vaguely wonders if the older boy is actually as nervous as he is. They don’t speak further, and somehow his heart’s still racing, but Wangho shuts his eyes and tries his best to not make himself feel like he’s going to puke all over the floor.

Soon, the announcer calls for them to take their places. Moving away, he takes his seat in between Seunghoon and Sanghyeok, his mouse and keyboard already set up with all the settings on the computer configured to his liking. His headphones feel comfortable against his ears, and he brushes his hair away from his eyes as he slips on his pair of glasses.

“Ready for some money?” Jaewan asks over the mic, and they take turns to test out the audio and sound. Everything’s working fine, so they all wait patiently in the lobby for the pick and ban phase to start.

“Let’s win,” Sanghyeok laughs into his mic. “Person with the lowest KDA at the end of each day has to buy dinner.”

“I hate you,” Jaewan complains as they enter the rift.

They win with barely any trouble at all, Sanghyeok forcing his enemy midlaner under their turret even with a level disparity.

Ignoring the gaggle of people around, Sanghyeok easily moves through the crowd, a few of them stepping out of the way quickly. They shuffle out into the hallway to wait for their next match scheduled to happen two hours later. Loading a bunch of coins into the vending machine, Sanghyeok presses on the button and hands a can of soda to Wangho after clicking open the tab.

“Yeah, just go ahead and forget about the rest of us,” Jaewan comments, riffling through his own bag for spare coins.

Sanghyeok only lets out an amused smirk and sits down on the chair in the waiting area. “Step it up, bot lane,” he teases, but not unkindly. “That KDA is looking pretty miserable. Ready to pay for dinner?”

“Fuck off,” Junsik whines.

They get back into the room after spending two hours lounging around lazily, talking about silly things and asking each other weird questions.

They win again, and they pile into a tiny booth at a cheap sushi restaurant, Junsik and Jaewan grumbling under their breaths as they foot the bill.

“It’ll be different tomorrow,” Junsik warns. “No way am I going to pay again.”

The next morning, Wangho actively avoids all questions from his roommate as they scramble to get ready. Jaewan drums his fingers on their door impatiently, yelling at them.

All five of them eventually meet up outside the computer lab again, pushing through the small crowd of spectators who have come to watch. “Is that him?” Wangho hears someone ask, and he turns to meet eyes with two girls who are staring at him.

“Hi,” one of the girls says. “You’re Han Wangho from Business, aren’t you? We watched your games yesterday, you looked so cool,” she gushes, and her friend nods her head vigorously.

Wangho greets them politely, somehow feeling empty inside even though he knows he should be glad that girls are showing some form of interest in him. He turns to see if the rest of his team is waiting, but they’ve disappeared into the crowd.

“Will you have dinner with us? We’re both from Business as well. It’ll be nice to get to know each other,” the other girl says, and for the life of him, Wangho really can’t be bothered right now.

But still, he reminds himself to be polite. “Sorry! I’ll be having dinner with my team for the whole week until the competition ends or until we get pushed out of it,” he apologises, and he spots Sanghyeok at the other side of the waiting area, sipping at a bottle of water while chatting with Seunghoon. “I have to go to my team now, but please stick around and watch us if you can!”

“One last question,” one of them tugs at his arm as he tries to move away. He tries to pull away gently, but her grip is tight and he doesn’t want to act harshly against a stranger. “Is that really the Demon King? That guy playing mid?”

“Oh, yeah,” Wangho says hurriedly. “But the rumours aren’t true, it’s really just a misunderstanding. He only punched two people because he was defending someone else,” he explains, unsure why he’s even this hung up about wanting complete strangers to get their facts straight.

“Is that so,” the girl says, letting go of his arm eventually, her perfectly manicured fingernails on display. “Okay, then. We’ll be cheering you on,” she says cheerfully. Wangho flashes a grin and jogs back to the team.

“Getting the girls now?” Junsik teases, having seen the whole exchange. 

Forcing out a laugh because he feels strangely devoid of emotions, Wangho responds jokingly. “Are you jealous? They invited me out for dinner, but I said no because I’d feel bad if I left you losers alone,” he boasts. From the corner of his eye, he sees Sanghyeok frowning. “Ah, hyung, don’t worry. I’m sure there’ll be people here for you! I told them that you’re a nice person,” he says, patting Sanghyeok’s arm.

Seunghoon sniggers, slapping Sanghyeok’s back roughly. “Yeah. Leave some of the girls for him too,” he joins in. Sanghyeok pointedly elbows him, walking away.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just in a foul mood,” Jaewan tells Wangho. “Maybe he’ll feel better after you talk to him!”

Wangho squints his eyes suspiciously. “Did you all do something to Sanghyeok-hyung?”

“No, we didn’t do anything,” says Junsik in a teasing tone, turning Wangho around so he’s facing the direction where Sanghyeok is seated on an empty chair, scrolling on his phone. “Go on, go be a good dongsaeng and cheer your hyung up!”

Wangho sighs, but does exactly as Junsik suggests, walking up to stand in front of Sanghyeok. “Hyung? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Sanghyeok replies frostily. Wangho pouts instantly.

“Hyung, you seem angry,” he replies, taking a seat next to him. “Why are you angry?”

Sanghyeok sighs. “It’s nothing,” he mutters, keeping his phone in his pocket.

“Hyung,” Wangho changes his tone, putting on a layer of sweetness. “Are you angry at me?”

“No,” Sanghyeok says quickly, and looks back at him. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not angry.”

“Okay,” he says, not wanting to pursue the topic any further. “Can we get barbecue for dinner if we win again?”

Sanghyeok smirks. “Just make sure your KDA remains high, and maybe we just might get free barbecue from one or two of our idiot teammates.”

Wangho ends up stealing a baron during the game, which Jaewan hollers at noisily, and they barrel into the enemy base to end the game. Seunghoon sighs and foots the entire bill for their barbecue.

Wednesday flashes by, and Wangho ends up securing fifteen kills in a single game. At the end of the game, Junsik flings himself across both Sanghyeok and Wangho, crushing them both into a group hug as Jaewan and Seunghoon join in from the sides. Once again, Seunghoon ends up having to pay for their meal, all of them noisily chewing on their burgers. “I hate you, you never give me attention on the rift,” he sticks his finger out at Wangho in a childish, accusatory tone.

“Not Wangho’s fault you got solo-killed so many times,” Junsik teases, and they all laugh at Seunghoon’s dramatic offended expression.

Although they end up dropping one game each on Thursday and Friday, it feels great to have more people at their games compared to the rest of the participating teams. Wangho makes sure to put on a smile when a few people walk up to him.

“Wangho, let’s go,” Sanghyeok calls out to him, arms crossed.

“Ah, I have to go now,” Wangho greets them all nicely. “Goodbye!”

“Hold on,” a girl stops him. “Can I get your number?”

Wangho blinks and stares blankly for a couple of seconds, hesitating. Suddenly, someone sidles up to their group, placing an arm around him. He looks up and sees Sanghyeok frowning down at him.

“Let’s go,” Sanghyeok growls impatiently.

“Oops, I have to go!” Wangho says quickly, most of them now shrinking back thanks to Sanghyeok’s presence. “See you all tomorrow, if you’re coming to watch us in the semi-finals!”

He briskly walks away, tugging Sanghyeok along. “Thank god you came to save me. I didn’t know how to say no directly to them,” he whispers. They reunite with Seunghoon, Junsik and Jaewan, who are tapping their feet impatiently.

“I’ll walk around with you on Saturday and Sunday so no one will get close to you,” Sanghyeok says, chewing on his lower lip in contemplation.

“So confident that we’ll be in the finals on Sunday?” Junsik cuts in, laughing. “Wow, look at that level of confidence.”

Smirking as they walk to the nearby ramyeon stall near their university, Sanghyeok announces, “if bot lane and top lane both don’t feed, we’ll win that money.”

“You little shit,” admonishes Jaewan dramatically, reaching around Wangho to whack Sanghyeok on the shoulder. “Says the one who got first-blooded just now!”

“I was giving the enemy mid laner some confidence,” Sanghyeok says, but his tone indicates that he’s completely talking nonsense. “I need my fellow mid laners to be worthy opponents.”

When the semi-finals come, Wangho’s busy trying to get himself to calm down before the match. “Why are my hands shaking,” he whines, looking down at his hands.

Jaewan is on the couch next to Seunghoon, eating a gigantic chocolate muffin. “Go ask Sanghyeok to hold your hand,” he teases, and Junsik kicks at Jaewan’s leg as a sign to not let the joke go too far. But Wangho knows they’re just kidding, so he sighs and ignores the comment.

Sanghyeok comes out of the bathroom, patting his hands against his jacket. “It’s crowded today,” he murmurs, scowling when a bunch of people try to approach them. Seunghoon gets whisked away, chatting with the crowd courteously.

Sanghyeok grabs Wangho’s arm, looking at his hands. “Why are you shaking?”

“Nervous,” he mutters. “We just need to win three games out of five, right? Right. Just three games.”

“Don’t shut down on me, I need you in my lane,” Sanghyeok replies, and then stretches his hand out.

“What?” Wangho asks awkwardly. But he sees another frown beginning to form on Sanghyeok’s face, so he grabs the outstretched hand and tries to ignore all the warnings in his brain.

Sanghyeok stares for a moment, bringing their hands down. He drags Wangho over to the seats and shrugs off one side of his jacket, bringing the jacket over their hands. He pulls out his phone with his free hand and scoots close to bring up a video of a bunch of cats playing around on a field. Wangho soon gets distracted by the video, laughing each time a cat rolls around in the grass.

Now armed with a bunch of flowers in his arms, Seunghoon peers over at Sanghyeok’s phone screen. “We can go into the room soon. By the way, Wangho, these flowers are for you. Some guy told me to give them to you,” he says, waving around one of the bouquets in his hands.

Wangho wants to accept the bouquet with both hands, but his right hand is still pressed against Sanghyeok’s left, trapped in between them and under the jacket. “Thank you,” he says, grabbing it with his left hand, admiring the roses. “I’m not really a flower person, but these are pretty.”

Seunghoon shrugs. “Go thank him later. He said he’s your friend. I think his name is Jinseong?”

“Oh,” Wangho says, and stares down at the roses. He smiles, and places them on his lap. He looks back at Sanghyeok, who’s now frowning again.

“Park Jinseong. You met him before in my dorm room,” Wangho reminds him, unsure if the other boy remembers who Jinseong is. “My best friend.”

“I know,” Sanghyeok says, and pulls away to wear his jacket again when someone calls for them to enter the computer lab. Wangho feels the warmth fade away from his hands, but sighs to himself and focuses on getting into a stable mindset.

They win the semi-finals, and Wangho gets back to his dormitory room at eight in the evening, shuffling around to find an empty bottle to store the roses in. He ignores Junsik’s comments as usual.

“You can’t keep running away from this,” Junsik points out. “You know you have to face it some time soon, right?”

“I don’t need to deal with anything now. I’ll worry about things when they come,” Wangho replies, and curls up under his blanket, having already taken a quick shower.

Sunday comes, the two of them waking up early for once, hearts beating excitedly at the thought of winning the competition. All five of them are lined up neatly behind the curtains of the auditorium, the competition having moved to a bigger area for the final round to allow for a bigger crowd to watch.

They walk onto the stage when the announcer calls them out, the crowd screaming louder than ever. He looks at Sanghyeok seated on his left, and smiles.

Before he knows it, the crowd is roaring, the enemy’s nexus is down, and Sanghyeok is tugging him up. He goes in for a high five, but Sanghyeok pulls him into a hug and he reciprocates, his arm around the older boy’s waist as they smile at each other. For that moment, it feels like it’s just the two of them, no crowd, no cameras from the school press team, and —

Wangho thinks: I want this feeling to last forever.


	13. Heart flutters on the high ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team 1 goes to the amusement park! Junsik drags Wangho into the haunted house, and there’s a ferris wheel heart-fluttering moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to MXM’s “Show me your love” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/7LiJ2k9hnARfQc3TNtlf8J?si=gtldU7ZNSLa48P0b9eYgqg)

Whistling obnoxiously, Jaewan waves his phone in front of their faces. “Check out the front page of the gaming club’s website,” he says, casually tossing his phone into Sanghyeok’s outstretched hand. Wangho peers over, interested.

In a gigantic banner at the top of the page, his face and Sanghyeok’s face is plastered on a photograph of them hugging on stage. The smiles on their faces are wide and genuine, hands clasped together in front of them.

Wangho instantly loses his cool, sputtering. “What? How?”

“School press team was at the event,” Jaewan munches on his powdered doughnut. “You guys look cute, though! It’s a pretty picture.”

“I already saved all our pictures from the website and sent it to our groupchat,” Seunghoon puffs out in pride. 

Wangho is barely processing anything, still embarrassed. “Why did they use it at their welcome page,” he whines.

“It’s a nice picture,” Sanghyeok agrees slowly. “Do you mind it? I’ll go scare them into changing it, if you don’t like it.”

“No, no,” Wangho says immediately. “It’s okay. It’s just a little embarrassing to have my picture be used like that.”

Seunghoon coughs. “Uh, you might want to check Instagram. I think there’s a fan page for you.”

Wangho pulls out his own phone quickly, clicking into Instagram. With his notifications for it being switched off, he’s never updated unless he clicks into it. Looking through his tagged photos to see many, many pictures of him and Sanghyeok together, he gasps in shock. There’s even some pictures of when they were waiting together for their matches to start, but thankfully, none that were remotely intimate in nature (if holding hands could be considered intimate, that is).

Junsik laughs. “I wanted to tell you, but I was busy dealing with my own phone blowing up with all the messages from people congratulating us for winning.”

“Holy shit,” Wangho repeats, and quickly goes out of the application. He presses his head into his palms and resists the urge to yell.

“Forget about that, we’re here!” Jaewan cheers, looking out of the window. They exit the six-seater car they rented, paying the driver with the payment application on Seunghoon’s phone.

Wangho forgets about the pictures instantly. “Holy shit, let’s go in,” he tugs Seunghoon and Sanghyeok to the entrance, all of them flashing the tickets the gaming club had awarded to them — even though frankly speaking, none of them even knew the amusement park tickets were part of the prize, having been too fixated on the cash prize.

They stop by the gift store, and Wangho places a headband with a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on Sanghyeok’s head. “You look great, hyung,” he cheers as Seunghoon sniggers at them both, picking out a random headband.

“You should buy the matching one, then,” Sanghyeok says, picking up the Minnie Mouse one and placing it carefully on Wangho’s head. If if were anyone else, Wangho knows he would have prevented them from making him wear such a cute-looking headband, not to mention the part about it being a couple headband. However, instead of resisting, Wangho obediently adjusts the headband on his head. Junsik, Jaewan and Seunghoon stare at him knowingly, and he glares at them, silently daring them to say anything out of line.

Seunghoon fixes his hair, looking into the mirror. “Damn, I look like a sexy catboy.”

Junsik flicks his forehead. “Bro, self praise.”

The five of them head out of the store, Wangho feeling terribly self-conscious at the way he and Sanghyeok have matching headbands on. He adjusts it awkwardly, unsure if he should remove it or not, but Seunghoon throws an arm around him. “Keep it on. You look great. And no one will judge you, I promise. I’m wearing cat ears and no one is looking at me weirdly,” he comments as they queue for the viking ship.

Thankfully, the queue is short, since it’s a Wednesday morning and they have express queue wristbands. The operator pushes down the safety bars, Wangho sandwiched between Seunghoon and Sanghyeok. Jaewan and Junsik had opted to sit in the middle seats, too afraid to sit at the back.

The rush of adrenaline feels great, the ride swinging them back and forth. Wangho yells excitedly, and on a whim, grabs both Sanghyeok’s and Seunghoon’s arms and raises them high in the air. The wind is cool against their faces, ruffling their hair, but their headbands keep their hair down.

“Haunted house next?” Jaewan suggests once they’re back on the ground, the sun shining mercilessly down on them as they wander around the park. Linking arms with Seunghoon, the two of them disappear behind the doors.

“Wait, no!” Wangho yowls as Junsik shoves him past the entrance. He blinks, trying to adjust his eyesight to the dimly-lit room. “Sanghyeok-hyung! Save me!” He hears a bunch of screaming in the distance, and shivers.

Sanghyeok appears by his side quickly, a flashlight in his hand. Wangho grips onto his arm immediately. “Junsik, you piece of shit,” he yells down the dark hallway, unsure of where his roommate had gone to. The house is cold and steely, fake blood splashed across the floor.

“Hyung,” Wangho warns seriously, “I apologise in advance if I cut off the blood circulation for your arm.”

Sanghyeok only laughs, patting his head gently. He stretches out his left hand. “Hold my hand instead.”

If it weren’t for how creepy the whole place is, Wangho would have hesitated, but instead he smiles unsurely and curls his fingers around Sanghyeok’s, clasping their hands together. “Let’s get out of here quickly?”

“Let’s go. Huni has the other flashlight, so I think he’s probably with Jaewan and Junsik,” Sanghyeok says, guiding him through the strange corridor. Wangho whimpers and hides behind, grasping tightly onto the older boy’s hand as a few of the haunted house actors scream at them like banshees.

Sanghyeok shields him, pulling him down the hallway quickly. “Don’t look,” he says softly. “Just look at my back. I’ll get us out of here soon.”

Wangho’s heart is beating so quickly, and it seems like it’s a common occurrence these days. He clings onto Sanghyeok’s left arm, hugging it. They enter the first room they see, with someone dressed as a clown, a particularly real-looking knife in his hands. Wangho yelps as they run across the room. They dart out, slamming the door shut behind them.

Panting, Wangho looks up at Sanghyeok worriedly. “Don’t worry, Wangho-ya. It’ll be fine. It’s all fake,” Sanghyeok pats his head again, and Wangho leans in.

“I’m scared,” he mutters, feeling like a complete loser. “Stupid Junsik.”

“We’ll be fine,” Sanghyeok says, and tugs him close to give him a hug, their hands still clasped together. “I’m here, so don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Wangho breathes out. They walk through the darkness, their only source of light coming from the torch in Sanghyeok’s hand. He’s shaking from the cold, but his palms are sweaty. He tries to let go of Sanghyeok’s hand so he can wipe his palm against his shirt, but the grip around his hand is tight. “Hyung, let go for a bit. My hands are gross, I need to wipe them.”

“It’s fine,” Sanghyeok replies simply. “Come on, there’s another room right ahead.” He opens the door, and there’s a girl in the middle of the room, crying softly.

Wangho gulps, clinging onto Sanghyeok’s arm. They walk forward slowly, past the girl and towards the exit of the room, but she starts contorting, crawling towards them. Breaking out into a full run, Wangho yelps in shock as they slam the exit door behind them again. “What the fuck.”

“'What the fuck' is the right phrase,” Sanghyeok mutters. Wangho groans, wanting to punch Junsik in the face at that very moment.

They walk through another hallway, a bunch of bloody hands hanging from the ceiling, some of the actors crawling around on the floor. It’s all done distastefully, like something out of a second rate horror film, but it doesn’t make Wangho feel any less afraid. He squeaks as a couple of cold fingers brush against his ankles, trying his best to focus on Sanghyeok’s back as they run through the hallway and into the next room, closing the door shut so the actors can’t follow them in.

It’s all good, except they’re stuck in another room, and Jaewan, Junsik and Seunghoon pop out of nowhere, shining their torch right at Wangho’s face. “Oops. Hey, you two!” Jaewan greets, turning the flashlight away.

“We’re stuck in this room and there’s a bunch of things that pop up whenever we try to find the key,” Junsik grumbles. Wangho puffs his cheeks, using his free hand to punch his roommate’s shoulder.

“This is your fault,” he complains.

“Okay, okay,” Junsik apologises. “I thought it’d be funny to scare you. I’m sorry?”

Wangho pouts, and really, he can’t stay mad at his roommate for long. “Go find the way to get us out of here.”

Seunghoon sits down lazily on the sofa, setting off a loud noise as a bunch of mannequin limbs come raining from the ceiling. They all jump in shock, sighing when they realise it’s just one of the traps Seunghoon had set off.

“You fools,” Sanghyeok says, and pulls Wangho along so they can explore the room. He pokes at a few items on the table, setting off a few traps. They all jump in shock each time it happens, but eventually, Sanghyeok kicks at a dumbbell laying on the floor and the exit trap door unlocks with an audible click.

“Thank god!” Jaewan cheers, rushing out of the room. All five of them run through the last hallway and exit the house successfully, the rest of the actors screaming while chasing after them.

Wangho pants as they stop running, happy to see the sunlight again. Relieved, he lets go of Sanghyeok’s hand and pats his shoulder gratefully. “Hyung, thank you for getting me out of there!”

“You’re saying it as if he isn’t equally as afraid of that shit as you are,” Seunghoon remarks. “We scream together all the time while playing random horror games in our dorm.”

Tilting his head, Wangho turns to look up at Sanghyeok. “Nope, Sanghyeok-hyung guided me through all the shitty rooms.”

Whistling, Seunghoon briskly walks ahead. “Is that so,” he comments, ducking when Sanghyeok reaches out to smack him.

The sun slowly sets, and the sky is a pretty orange. Wangho snaps a few pictures, posing with Sanghyeok and their matching headbands. They all take turns to pose in front of the rollercoasters and the ferris wheel, the evening lamps now switched on to light up the park.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to go on a ferris wheel with a girl,” Seunghoon remarks. “But instead, I’m here with you losers.”

Junsik leans against him, slurping from his cup of overpriced chocolate shake, all of them having spent a ton of money at the food cart earlier. Munching on a churro, Wangho offers some to Sanghyeok, who takes a bite. Jaewan’s busy trying not to make a mess on his shirt, his ice cream rapidly melting.

“We can still go,” Wangho suggests cheerily. “Doesn’t mean we can’t all squeeze into one carriage and look like losers together!”

They get up from the benches eventually, stretching their legs out. Seunghoon drags them over to the ferris wheel operator to ask for the capacity. She tells them it’s a maximum of four people per carriage, earning groans from all of them.

“Want to come with me?” Sanghyeok asks softly, so soft that Wangho barely hears it. “Just the two of us, I mean.”

“Sure,” Wangho agrees. When they get to the front of the queue, they divide themselves into two groups, with Jaewan, Junsik and Seunghoon clambering into the first carriage. Wangho follows Sanghyeok into the next carriage, the operator locking the door behind them.

The wheel starts moving slowly, the view beneath them getting further and further away. The lights look pretty, the entire park beneath their feet. Snapping a few pictures of the scenery, Wangho turns his phone to Sanghyeok to take a picture of him.

“Let’s take one together,” Sanghyeok says, joining him on his side of the carriage. They grin stupidly at Wangho’s front camera, laughing at the photos as Wangho scrolls through them.

“Wangho-ya,” Sanghyeok says softly. “Look at hyung for a bit?”

Obediently, Wangho turns to face him, placing his phone back in his pocket. “Yeah?”

“We’ve only known each other for about two months now,” Sanghyeok says in a gentle tone, like he’s about to break some news. Wangho’s beginning to understand where exactly this conversation is headed. “You know hyung doesn’t care about what people say or think, right?”

“Right,” he replies, lowering his gaze, unable to make eye contact. Fiddling with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, he chews on his lip nervously.

“But hyung knows there’s things you clearly like very much, and there’s also things you clearly are afraid of,” Sanghyeok says ambiguously. “Hyung also knows that there’s things you’re not certain about yet.”

Wangho nods uncertainly, taking time to think through about what he’s implying. Sanghyeok continues after a pause, his voice impossibly gentle. “Will you let me continue to like you while you figure things out?”

Instantly, Wangho blushes, covering his face with his hands. He feels like he’s in a romance comic where the female lead gets a confession in a ferris wheel, and it’s all smooth-sailing from there. Except this time, Wangho is no girl, and he’s not sure if there’s a happily ever after for them.

His body feels hot from Sanghyeok’s gaze. He turns away completely, trying to fight the blush away. Gazing out of the window of the carriage through the spaces between his fingers, he wills himself to calm down.

“Wangho-ya? Did I make you uncomfortable? I’ll back off. I’m sorry,” Sanghyeok sounds worried.

“No, no,” Wangho says quickly, surprising himself. “It’s a lot to take in now, hyung,” he admits hesitantly. The view outside is nice from the top of the ferris wheel, the sky looking closer that Wangho can now make out tiny stars in the darkness.

But Sanghyeok places a soothing hand on his head, running his fingers through Wangho’s messy blond hair. “That’s okay. You can take as long as you want. I will be fine as long as you are.”

Wangho looks up timidly. “Even if I don’t give you an answer for a long time?”

“Yes,” Sanghyeok says, his touch feather-like, his gaze warm, so warm, that Wangho wants to forget about everything else and drown in it. “Hey, why are you shaking?”

“I don’t know why,” Wangho whines, lifting his hand away from his face to look at his shivering fingers.

“Can I hug you?”

On impulse and the adrenaline pumping through his system, Wangho agrees, pressing his head against Sanghyeok’s chest, listening to the quick beating of the older boy’s heart. He tucks his head under Sanghyeok’s chin, his hands now trapped between their bodies. It feels comfortable, and it feels right, but his brain is yelling at him to stop. “Hyung, are you sure you like me? Really sure?”

“Really sure,” Sanghyeok replies, arms around his waist, his thumb rubbing comforting patterns on his back, leaving traces of heat where his hands are. Their ride is almost done, already on its descent back down to the ground.

“I don’t know when I can give you an answer,” Wangho mumbles. “What if I don’t ever give you an answer?”

There’s silence, and he wiggles out of their compromising position quickly as their carriage nearly reaches the ground. He looks back down at his shoes, toeing at the metal material of the carriage awkwardly.

“Then I’ll just keep waiting,” Sanghyeok says as the carriage door opens, stepping out of it carefully. Under the yellow lamp lights, he looks unbelievably pretty, skin pale and figure slender. “Let’s go, Wangho-ya.”

“Okay,” Wangho says softly. His heart’s in turmoil. “Wait for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ferris wheels are the ultimate romance cliche, and I love it.


	14. I don't trust my judgment, I'm just twenty-two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holding hands in public, and falling asleep next to each other. Wangho's never felt this conflicted in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to The Millennial Club's "feel the same" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/70xh7Ux8IV46E5O4RNW2SX?si=_KALIL2NSaSwf6DLa_L9iQ)

Two days after what Wangho dubs as The Ferris Wheel Incident, he finds himself seated across Jinseong at their usual spot at Comma Cafe, staring blankly at his laptop. Sighing, he pokes at the condensation around his cup of iced coffee, pressing his fingernail down onto the napkins underneath the cup.

“You seem distracted,” Jinseong comments, lifting his head up. “Are you okay, babe?”

“Yeah,” Wangho mutters, trying to ignore the way a simple word from Jinseong makes him feel like there’s something churning in his stomach. “I’m probably still recovering from that outing to the amusement park.”

His friend stares quietly, like he’s analysing him. “Something happened?”

Immediately, Wangho shakes his head. “No, nothing much. Don’t worry about it. It’s probably the hot weather affecting me.” It makes him upset that he has to lie, but Jinseong doesn’t look too convinced anyway. He thinks back to the ferris wheel and the way the lights shined so brightly underneath their feet, and the thought of someone, a male at that, liking him to the point of confessing. Ignoring the way his own chest hurt at the thought of giving a reply, he sighs and sips at his drink, poking at the ice cubes with his straw.

Shutting his laptop, Jinseong looks up again. “Let’s go. You obviously can’t concentrate anyway. You don’t have any assignments due next week, right?”

“Yeah, but,” Wangho hesitates. “Where are we going?”

“My place. We can watch a movie on my bed and order food in when we get hungry,” Jinseong starts packing as he replies.

“Isn’t Sangho going to be there? I don’t want to disturb him,” Wangho awkwardly mumbles, but still, he begins to pack his belongings as well.

Jinseong shrugs. “He’ll be back around dinner time, but he’ll be fine with you there. He’s a nice kid.” They finish their drinks quickly, dumping the empty cups into the bin on their way out. Grabbing his hand, Jinseong laces their fingers together, like it’s perfectly fine for two boys to hold hands in the middle of the day.

“Hey,” Wangho hisses, trying to wiggle his hand out of his grasp. Jinseong stares down at him, and it makes him instantly feel like there’s something clawing at his chest.

“Do you want me to let go?” Jinseong asks softly, stopping in the middle of the pavement to pull him to the side. “Just tell me, and I won’t hold your hand anymore. I won’t get mad.”

Wangho hesitates to answer, licking at his own chapped lips. “We’re both boys,” he settles for answering lamely, looking down at his scuffed shoes. “It’s weird.”

“So boys can’t hold hands but girls can? We can’t show affection like this? You were fine with hugging Sanghyeok-sunbae on that stage, in front of hundreds of people and in front of me,” Jinseong pulls him closer, his voice soft, like he’s disappointed. Wangho feels the back of his neck getting hot, the sun rays shining down aggressively. He struggles to formulate an answer, his brain trying to explain away his own actions.

“That’s different, I wasn’t thinking right. That was just me acting on adrenaline because we just won. You know how it is, it’s the same as a victory hug that you do with your soccer team and me,” he shuts his eyes for a moment, reminding himself to breathe. “Okay. Let’s hold hands,” he bites down on his own tongue, stopping himself from saying anything else. He wonders why he’s feeling this guilty, like he’s betrayed someone and his own self for doing that on stage.

“You sure?” Jinseong asks, gazing at him. Averting his eyes away, Wangho nods.

Pleased, Jinseong tugs him along, and they walk past several shops on their way back to the dormitories. All Wangho thinks about is the way everyone else would probably be looking at them in disgust, at something that’s not normal. He looks down at their hands, and asks himself why he’s feeling this way. Half of himself wants to holds hands with Jinseong freely and wander around aimlessly, and the other half wants to crawl into bed and hide away.

Thankfully, no one stops them, and no one makes any sound of dissatisfaction at them. Wangho sticks close to Jinseong, making sure to cover their clasped hands slightly with his body, his heart feeling like it’s about to jump out of his chest. Jinseong doesn’t comment on it; he talks as usual about everything under the sun, so Wangho listens carefully, doing his best to shut his own inner voice out.

They reach Jinseong’s dormitory, kicking off their shoes at the entrance. Wangho clambers onto the bed, unceremoniously sitting on it. Jinseong kicks at him lightly, and he scoots over, letting the other boy slide into bed next to him after switching on the air conditioner.

“Comfy?” Jinseong whispers as he slips his bear plush toy into Wangho’s arms, adjusting the pillow behind their backs. Everything feels more natural this way, with no pressure from prying eyes, and Wangho curls up quietly and nods, waiting for Jinseong’s laptop to load the list of available movies. They finally settle on a silly-looking romance film, which makes Wangho feel slightly guilty again for some reason, but he stays quiet and settles for hugging the plush toy in his arms. He thinks back to freshman year, and the way Jinseong had approached him so effortlessly, all friendly and welcoming and choosing to hang out with him despite having many, many friends.

With the movie playing, they slip into silence, with the occasional comment when one of the movie characters does something silly. Hyperaware of Jinseong’s warm body next to his, Wangho lets his own heart take over, resting his head against Jinseong’s shoulder. Breath hitching, Jinseong doesn’t move, but the reflection from the screen of the laptop shows Wangho how distracted he is.

They get past about an hour of the movie when Wangho’s eyes threaten to close, and he feels himself getting dragged by the comfortable lull of sleep. “I’m sleepy,” he mumbles, trying to contain the yawn that escapes his lips.

“Go to sleep,” Jinseong mutters, closing his laptop. He shifts the pillow down, letting Wangho’s head rest on it as he slides down to lie on the bed fully. Wangho hums, welcoming the soft sheets and the blanket around him, the air conditioner having made the room cool and comfortable. Jinseong asks, “Can I hold you?”

In the moment, Wangho’s brain finally decides it’s a good thing to say yes, and so he nods and curls up closer, their limbs tangled, two friends on a tiny bed and just warmth, warmth, and more warmth, and Wangho’s eyes finally shut and he welcomes the darkness.

He wakes up a few hours later, the sun setting in the distance, and he takes the time to stare at his friend, all quiet and relaxed. It’s strange, how a year ago they’d been nothing but friends, but now they’re toeing the line between friendship and something else that Wangho doesn’t want to think about. Jinseong grunts in his sleep, tugging him closer, and he lets him, looking over at the other side of the room to make sure Sangho’s not there.

His heart is beating uncontrollably quickly, and he brushes the faded blonde strands away from Jinseong’s closed eyes, smiling when Jinseong lets out a whine and grips onto his waist. Even breaths letting him know that his friend is still asleep, Wangho keeps still, watching quietly. There’s so many feelings swirling in his chest, and he thinks about the way Jinseong has always been with him, from the time they first met at their lockers, to this very moment. Granted, this isn't the first time they've fallen asleep next to each other, but somehow this feels different, more special, now that Wangho has an inkling that Jinseong likes him in a way a boy would like a girl.

He only jolts out of Jinseong’s grasp at the sound of the door unlocking, quickly sliding into a sitting position on the bed. Sangho walks in, footsteps soft against the flooring, dumping his bag down on his chair after leaving the light at the entrance on.

“Hi, Sangho,” he greets awkwardly, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Thankfully, Jinseong is still fast asleep, the rise and fall of his chest steady and uninterrupted.

“Oh. Hi, Wangho-hyung,” Sangho whispers back. “Is Jinseong-hyung asleep?”

Looking back down at Jinseong’s sleeping form, Wangho nods. “Yeah. Let him sleep. I’ll go now,” he replies, carefully crawling out of bed. Pulling the blanket up, he smoothly tucks it under Jinseong’s chin. He stretches his arms in an attempt to wake himself up fully, then retrieves his belongings off from Jinseong’s study table. “I’ll lock the door on the way out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Soft moments with Jinseong and Wangho cuddling each other to sleep, and holding hands in public in broad daylight for everyone to see! Linking arms with Sanghyeok is one thing, but holding hands with Jinseong? Wow, step it up, Sanghyeok.  
> (2) If you haven’t been listening to the music I recommend every chapter, please listen to this one. It fits the situation between Jinseong and Wangho super perfectly.  
> (3) I'm not sure if I've been doing a decent job at describing it, but the reason why Wangho has been so indecisive is because he's been brought up to think that boys are supposed to only like girls. It's not uncommon for same-sex relationships to exist in this day and age, but not many people can accept it when they are the one facing such situations.


	15. Get dizzy, get drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho gets drunk and makes some questionable decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to bulow's "Get Stupid" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/4PMLEEYw4mblYsPlDSHKyu?si=CkLhNriXTdKxDntptT48Dw)
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains consumption of alcohol and slightly suggestive themes. Skip this chapter if you are not of age or if you are uncomfortable.

Wangho doesn’t know how it happened. One minute he’s chugging down mugs of beer at the speed of light while chatting along with Seunghoon and Haneul, and the next minute his vision is all hazy. A nagging voice in his brain tells him that it’s a good idea to take a break from all the recent happenings in his life before he starts mugging for his examinations.

“So yeah,” he hears Seunghoon say to someone else. “He’s a lightweight. He knows he’ll get drunk after just one cup of beer, but he insisted on drinking so much. I don’t even know why he drank so much.”

“I’m not a lightweight,” he protests, still resting his head on the table.

He hears a sigh. “I’ll bring him back. You should look after your friend. Why didn’t you tell me that Wangho joined you guys to go drinking?”

“Well,” the voice is unapologetic. “Wangho wasn’t going to come along, but then he suddenly changed his mind and told us he felt like drinking. Get him back to his room safely!”

Wangho perks up as his friend’s voice fades away. “Guys? Where are you both going?”

A white shirt comes into view. Wangho squints up to see Sanghyeok frowning down at him. “Oh! Hi, hyung,” he calls out enthusiastically. He sits up slowly, reaching to curl his arms around Sanghyeok’s thin waist. “What are you doing here?”

“Huni told me to pick you up. I’ll bring you back to your dorm. Come on,” Sanghyeok says, pulling Wangho’s arms away from where they are snaked around him.

“Don’t frown. Smile a little, hyung. Let’s go dance,” Wangho sings out, brazenly reaching up to poke at Sanghyeok’s cheek.

Sanghyeok bats away his invasive finger and loops an arm around him. “No. Let’s get you back to your room.”

Wangho shrugs him away, turning to wander off into the crowd. Sanghyeok grasps his wrist tightly as they move through throngs of people dancing, the music booming and the flashing lights painting the room in different colours. “Wangho-ya, hold on.”

They reach the other side of the club, a few people dancing, but none near to them. “Dance with me, hyung!” Wangho yells out, pulling him closer.

“Wangho, please, you’re really drunk,” the dark-haired boy protests loudly, trying to get himself heard over the loud music.

Wangho ignores him completely, moving closer and dancing to the beat of the song blasting away. “Dance along, or I won’t go home,” he yells out, still giggling away. He gets a little too close, pressing his body against Sanghyeok’s, moving teasingly along to the music.

The older boy immediately pulls away, cheeks flushing red. “Stop, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I know, hyung, I know,” Wangho reaches up to pull him down. “You’re so confusing.”

Then he moves in and presses his lips against Sanghyeok’s. He runs his fingers through dark hair, sighing contently as Sanghyeok finally presses back softly. They break away after a few seconds.

“Don’t kiss me like that, I’m not going to break,” Wangho laughs.

“I’m sorry,” Sanghyeok says apologetically. “I shouldn’t have even let you kiss me. You’re really drunk.”

Wangho giggles again. “It’s fine. You make me feel like I’m worth something.”

He then tiptoes and presses his lips back, slipping his tongue into the older boy’s mouth. He curls his tongue and laps up, sighing at the warmth. Sanghyeok closes his eyes and sinks down, kissing back with equal enthusiasm, holding on to his waist. Wangho whines when Sanghyeok strokes the area near his spine just the right way, fingers applying just the right amount of pressure to send shivers down his spine.

They pull away eventually, lips shiny and slightly red. Sanghyeok breathes out, tugging at his arm to lead them away from the dance floor and out of the club. Wangho follows obediently.

“You’re such a handful,” Sanghyeok mutters as he keeps his arm around Wangho’s waist. They walk slowly, several club go-ers passing by.

“I’m your handful,” he slurs in reply, blond locks of hair mussed. He stumbles, but Sanghyeok stabilises him immediately. They walk in silence, but Wangho’s brain is working in all the wrong ways.

He says the very thing that’s been bothering him. “Hyung, you and Jinseong are both so confusing. You’re both boys too, but you both make me feel things,” he says softly.

“Do you like Jinseong?” Sanghyeok asks, gently guiding him to the side of the pavement to stand near the wall.

“Don’t know.” he sings out.

“Then do you like me?” Sanghyeok’s voice is soft.

“I don’t know,” he repeats, and presses his hand against the side of Sanghyeok’s waist. “Hyung, kiss me again.”

Sanghyeok shakes his head. “You’re too drunk. You’re going to regret this in the morning.”

Tugging at his shirt stubbornly, Wangho whines in a childish tone. “Kiss me!”

“You’re drunk. I’d be taking advantage of you,” he hears Sanghyeok say firmly, grasping onto his fingers to uncurl them from his shirt. He whines, refusing to let go.

“Please?” he begs in a whisper. “I want to kiss you. I promise I’ll go home after. I just want to know what you feel like.” He steps closer, fingers pressing against Sanghyeok’s chest. He reaches up and tugs the older boy down lower.

Sanghyeok gives in and lets him smash their lips together messily. He lets out a noise of satisfaction, curling his tongue around Sanghyeok’s, greedily chasing the warmth he yearned for so desperately. It’s too much tongue and too much of everything, his body feeling like it’s melting, but it’s exactly what Wangho wants right now.

Combing his fingers through black locks of hair, he presses his body against the older boy’s, desperately hanging on. Sanghyeok’s hands are around his waist, just above the band of his skinny jeans. Wangho takes full charge and does what he wants, sinking further and further into the abyss.

They separate for air, but Wangho is quick to drag Sanghyeok into another kiss. He feels so floaty, so good, and he blames it on the alcohol. His body fits perfectly against the older boy’s lanky frame, and he feels so complete, like pieces of himself he had lost over time were finally glued back together. He feels so, so incredibly warm.

He finally pulls away. The haze in his head feels good. “You’re so warm, hyung.”

Sanghyeok says nothing, brushing stray strands of hair away from Wangho’s eyes. “Let’s get you home.”

“Okay,” Wangho finally acquiescences, satisfied for the moment. They walk slowly, making their way back to the dormitories. It’s only a few blocks away, and they walk without much trouble apart from Wangho’s occasional stumbles.

They eventually reach dormitory block C. Sanghyeok swings the glass door open, guiding him towards the lift. The security guard is fast asleep on his chair. They wait for the lift, and Wangho leans against him for support. Pawing at the older boy’s chest, he asks cheekily, “Hyung, do you want to stay over?”

“You have a roommate,” Sanghyeok frowns, flicking his hand away. “Don’t disturb Junsik.”

“Junsik isn’t in today. He went to visit his family,” Wangho slurs out, desperately seeking out skin contact from the other boy. “Stay with me.”

The lift bell dings and the doors open. Sanghyeok wordlessly leads him out towards his dorm room.

“Hyung! Stay with me!” he half-yells, his volume too loud for the quiet hour of two in the morning.

“Stay quiet, Wangho-ya,” Sanghyeok instructs. “I won’t stay over if you’re going to be like this.”

“I’ll be quiet, I’ll be quiet,” Wangho whines grumpily. “Stay over.”

Sanghyeok sighs for what feels like the tenth time that night, fiddling around with Wangho’s pocket. Wangho giggles and lets out a tiny moan when he feels slender fingers brush against his thigh, sliding against the fabric of his jeans. “Hyung, where are you trying to touch? You’re so naughty.”

“I’m just getting your key out,” Sanghyeok mutters his explanation, finally unlocking the door. Wangho leans against the wall, his eyes now threatening to shut.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” Sanghyeok commands, reaching up to switch on the lights at the doorway.

Wangho leans in to the touch quickly, like a cat. “Hyung, you’re so warm,” he repeats, laying half his weight on the older boy as they kick off their shoes haphazardly. “Come to bed with me.” They walk in, dragging their feet across the room towards his bed.

But Sanghyeok pushes him lightly onto the bed. “No. I’m going off now. Don’t puke anywhere, or Junsik is going to suffer when he gets back.”

“No!” Wangho whines stubbornly, reaching out with grabby hands. “Hyung, please come to bed with me! You like me, don’t you? Don’t leave me alone.” In his hazy vision, he can see Sanghyeok staring at him, biting his lip in contemplation. “Please?” he pleads, pouting in the way his subconscious tells him makes Sanghyeok stare at him sometimes, especially when they’re alone.

“Move, then. I don’t know how you want me to fit in this tiny bed with you.”

Wangho scoots over happily, his back against the wall. “Come here, hyung,” he slurs out.

He watches as Sanghyeok takes off his jacket and glasses, tossing it both on the study table. Even in the dim lighting from the doorway, Wangho can see the way Sanghyeok’s gaze is soft, and it makes him feel good about himself for being the only one who can make the other boy look like that. Pulling the blanket over them both, Sanghyeok adjusts himself, turning to place his palm against Wangho’s left cheek.

On a whim, Wangho slips his right hand under the white shirt, letting his left hand curl around the back of Sanghyeok’s neck. Leaning forward, Wangho lazily locks their lips together, his hand pressing clumsily along the bare skin of Sanghyeok’s waist. It’s soft and messy and lazy, and so warm, just the way Wangho wants it. He wants this, and his brain tells him that he can only have it now.

The older boy catches his wandering hand, pulls it out from under his shirt and holds it tightly. “Go to sleep,” he whispers as he pulls away from the kiss.

Wangho laughs again, feeling all giggly and floaty. “Give me a good night kiss,” he demands.

Instead of pressing their lips together again, Sanghyeok sweeps his hair aside to lay a soft, light peck on his forehead. “Good night, Wangho-ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Wangho? Repressed gay. Alcohol makes you act on your deepest desires, I swear. Alcohol is both a blessing and the devil itself. Drink safely, kids. Don’t be like Wangho.  
> (2) Wangho seems like he would be a giggly and loud person when he’s drunk. Reference: his drunk stream when he was in SKT.  
> (3) I think I underestimated the power fakenut still has. But does fakenut duo together on league now like teddy/peanut have been doing? No, and that makes me sad :(


	16. It's just all too loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes a whole lot of courage to come to terms with something you've been running away from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Tori Romo's and The Millennial Club's "Coffee In The Morning" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/2c0qyVO5rojPGzIT9HoHNp?si=ycXyrUSRQZqt-15dRIlzLw)

When Wangho wakes up, his head is booming, and he squints at the figure lying next to him, blinking several times to get a good look at who it is. Then, everything hits him, all at once, faint memories of last night flooding back into his mind. Gasping in shock, he sits up, immediately wincing when his head feels a sharp pain.

“Fuck,” he groans, clutching at his head with his hand. Once the pain subsides a little, he immediately checks to see if he’s fully clothed, sighing in relief when he sees that he is. Then he looks at Sanghyeok who’s still sleeping, his head dangerously at the edge of the pillow, and stares for a good ten seconds, trying to decide on what to do.

He slips out of bed, as gracefully as he can while clutching his head, and hobbles over to his study table, grabbing his emergency medicine box. Taking two painkillers out of the packet, he gulps it down with the water from his half-empty bottle sitting next to his laptop. Then, he sits on his study chair and just stares at the sleeping figure on his bed, unsure of what to do next.

He decides to take a shower, the smell of alcohol on him overpowering the entire room. With warm water now blasting down on him, he scrubs at himself, trying his best not to think of the way he had kissed Sanghyeok so many times, even going as far as —

Wangho gulps, now remembering every single detail. He had french kissed Sanghyeok the night before.

He sighs, wanting his thoughts to steer away from yesterday’s happenings, knocking on his head lightly with his hands. Of course, it only serves to worsen his headache, and he winces again.

Think about stupid shit, he thinks to himself. Don’t think about him, he tells himself. But his mind refuses to cooperate, so he squeezes out shampoo from the bottle and messily plops it on his head, lathering it all over his scalp while trying to distract himself.

He quickly brushes his teeth, using mouthwash as well to make sure every last bit of the bitter scent of alcohol is gone. Then, he pads out of the bathroom with his towel around his waist, yelping when he sees that Sanghyeok’s awake, sitting on his bed, looking down at his phone.

“You’re awake,” he stutters, not waiting for a reply, and quickly flings open the door of his wardrobe and grabs the first pair of underwear, shirt and pair of pants he sees. Darting back into the bathroom, he slams the door shut, his heart racing, and his head still dealing with the nagging ache.

Now dressed, he takes a few breaths to calm himself down. Swinging the bathroom door open, he steps out, plastering a smile on his face. “Hyung, you brought me home, didn’t you? Thank you so much. I’m really sorry for troubling you,” he says, walking up to the foot of the bed.

Sanghyeok looks up, placing his phone down. “Yeah,” he says softly, but doesn’t say anything else.

“You should go back to your room quickly! I’ve taken up too much of your time,” Wangho says quickly, trying his best not to avert his eyes.

Completely ignoring his words, Sanghyeok stands up and walks over to him, look right down at him. “How do you feel? I can go out and buy food for you. It’s long past lunch time. You’ll hurt your stomach if you don’t eat.”

Taking a step back, Wangho waves his hands in front of himself. "No, no. It's okay, hyung. Don't worry about me. You should just go home."

Frowning, Sanghyeok steps away, walking to the door. "I'll see you around, then." His voice sounds cold, like all the warmth seeped out and escaped through the spaces of Wangho's fingers when he had held onto Sanghyeok so tightly last night. Wangho feels so crappy, so utterly selfish, but he's too scared to say anything, so he watches as Sanghyeok slips on his shoes and shuts the door behind him.

He cries, just a tiny bit, at the sheer absurdity of his own actions and at the way he just treated Sanghyeok even after having emotionally manipulated him last night. It's like he's a gigantic mess, playing around with two boys' feelings when he doesn't even know what he wants.

Junsik comes back a few hours later, and they don't talk, apart from greeting each other. Wangho's grateful that his roommate senses his foul mood. He stays at his study table for hours on end, working through his assignments ever so slowly, plagued by his own thoughts and the memories that he tries so hard to push away.

But it’s so hard to breathe. Wangho finally slams his laptop shut, wheeling his chair away from the table to stand up. The scenarios in his mind repeat over and over again, like tiny knives relentlessly attacking his soul.

“I’m a fuck up,” he mumbles, slumping onto Junsik’s bed, curling himself up next to his roommate. His roommate immediately sets his phone aside, turning his body to face him.

“No, you’re not,” he frowns down at Wangho, like a disapproving parent. “So don’t say that.”

Wangho blinks away the sudden tears that well up in his eyes. Vision blurry, he presses his hand on his face and wipes it away, but Junsik is already sitting up in alarm, gathering him into his arms. “I’m sorry. Did I upset you? Hey, don’t cry,” Junsik pleads, and those words make Wangho burst into tears, feeling like a complete loser.

He whines incoherently, Junsik cradling him gently. “Breathe, Wangho. Don’t cry,” he says softly, and Wangho feels like he’s let his own family down.

Struggling to take deeper breaths, Wangho bursts into another round of tears, everything feeling so overwhelming at this point.

“I’ll kill whoever it is that’s making you upset,” Junsik hisses, arms winding around Wangho tighter. “Don’t cry, okay?”

“No one’s making me cry,” Wangho blubbers, but he only makes himself feel worse. Junsik pats his back soothingly, and Wangho shut his eyes as he thinks back to his home, and his mother’s defeated back as she works tirelessly in their family restaurant, and having only ever disappointed her again and again by making all the wrong decisions.

“Don’t apologise. It’s okay,” Junsik murmurs. “Just breathe,” he does a silly breathing exercise with him, letting him breathe smoother. They sit quietly, listening to the distant sounds of people laughing and the ticking of their ugly blue wall clock.

Shifting to adjust his posture, Junsik asks softly. “Wanna tell me why you’re crying?”

There’s silence in the room for a long time, Junsik patiently waiting for him to calm down. He eventually does, sitting in the warmth of his roommate’s arms, feeling like a silly younger brother who goes to his older brother for comfort.

That’s when Wangho confesses. He talks about how he had woken up in the morning to Sanghyeok lying next to him, hair mussed but still looking effortlessly good somehow, and how he feels so warm and his gaze never leaves him, and the way Sanghyeok had still chosen to stay the night despite Wangho completely playing with his feelings.

And then there’s Jinseong, who’s constantly checking up on him, bringing him out for dinner all the time and the way he’s loud and noisy but surprisingly careful, and the fluttering feeling Wangho gets when Jinseong’s head is resting on his shoulder while they lounge lazily on the bleachers while waiting for Jinseong’s soccer practice to start.

Wangho feels responsible for fucking up everyone’s hearts, because he doesn’t even know what his heart wants either.

“It’s not completely your fault,” Junsik says. “Love is something between two people, yes? It’s not just on one person. So you shouldn’t have to feel responsible for upsetting someone by being unsure.”

He continues, fiddling with Wangho’s hair, twirling it with his fingers. “I will say, though, that you shouldn’t have played with Sanghyeok’s feelings by kissing him while you were drunk, but I’ve seen how drunk you can get, so while I don’t think you should have done that, I understand how it could have happened.”

Wangho listens silently, sniffling. Junsik’s expensive sweatshirt is kind of wet thanks to his tears, and he feels pretty bad about that too.

“So,” Junsik continues, arms curled around like a safety net, rocking him back and forth slowly. “Since you know that they both like you, you need to make a decision about it, okay? If you don’t like them, then you need to respect them and tell them straightforwardly."

Wangho nods, and asks uncertainly. “Am I... gay?”

“Well,” Junsik replies after thinking. “You don’t have to put yourself in a box like that. If you like Sanghyeok, then you just like him, and if you like Jinseong, then you just like him. If it doesn’t make you comfortable, you don’t have to call yourself that.” He pauses, trying to formulate his thoughts into sentences. “Think about it, you’ve dated girls before, but never boys, right? You could bisexual, or gay, but it doesn’t have to matter this much. You can just like someone without identifying yourself so clearly like that.” He hums, ruffling at Wangho’s hair, all matted from perspiration.

Wangho takes in his words silently, biting on his lip. “You’re okay with it? With me being like this?”

“Of course, you silly child,” Junsik says sincerely. “I’ll protect you, okay? So you don’t have to be afraid.”

His words are impossibly tender, and Wangho feels only regret at not being a better friend. “Thank you,” he mumbles into his friend’s sweatshirt. “Really.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Junsik lifts his head up with both hands, cupping his face. “Go wash your face. Your eyelids are going to be puffy tomorrow, and I’m going to laugh at you,” he pats Wangho’s head.

Wangho stares at his roommate’s face, looking silently for any judgement, but he thankfully finds none. He follows his instructions, slipping out of bed to wash his face. Looking in the mirror, he still can’t see anything nice to look at, but still, he swallows the feelings welling up in his stomach and pats away the water droplets from his face using a towel.

“Come here. Sleep next to me,” Junsik says. Wangho slips back in Junsik’s bed, the two of them cramming together. “Go to sleep. It’ll be better in the morning.”

“Good night,” Wangho says, curling up in his friend’s arms. He stays awake for a long, long time even as his friend’s breathing evens out, but still — at least he doesn’t feel as lonely anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) This chapter is dedicated to my friend who is to me what Junsik is to Wangho, and whose arms are always warm.  
> (2) Fun fact: I can’t remember where I read it, but Wangho’s mother has a restaurant called “Yumine”.


	17. Fairytales might be real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho goes on a date with Jinseong. He’s never believed in fairytales, but maybe this time he will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Dvwn’s “fairy” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/5UYiuOoh5HmccUCw1oV37s?si=-unBFxINRI2ehBSdYEABZQ)

Wangho drowns himself in his school work, going through each day on autopilot. He wakes up, goes to school, does his work, and comes back to his room all exhausted. For a whole week, he does this, worrying Junsik to pieces when he refuses to stop his work to eat dinner. On Friday, they end up eating at three in the morning once Wangho finishes with his readings.

His phone blows up with messages, and he gets rid of banner notifications, switching them off completely and eventually even turning his phone on to airplane mode. Jinseong stops by on Saturday, looping his arm around his waist carefully, like Wangho would slip away if he held on too loosely. Wangho lets him, welcoming the physical contact, but doesn’t let Jinseong move his hand any lower.

“You seem upset,” Jinseong mutters. “Are you free next week? Let’s go out.”

“I’m busy,” Wangho says awkwardly, even when he knows his next project isn’t due till two weeks later. He feels like a coward again, but he doesn’t know what to do, his feelings pressing down heavily on his chest.

“Dinner, please?” Jinseong asks. It sways Wangho’s heart, just a tiny bit, and he indulges in whatever Jinseong wants.

“Okay, let’s go out next Wednesday,” he agrees slowly.

His friend beams, his little canine tooth sticking out. Hugging him tight to whisper in his ear softly, Jinseong says, “I want it to be a date.”

Wangho’s stomach churns, like there’s something clawing out of his tummy. He whispers, even though he’s certain that Junsik can’t hear them thanks to his pink cat-eared headphones blasting out some pop song while he’s playing League at his own study table. “Like, a romantic date?”

“Yes,” Jinseong’s voice and warm breath against his ear makes goosebumps appear on his skin, and it strangely makes Wangho feel good about himself, like he’s wanted and loved despite being a total mess. “I know you have some feelings for Sanghyeok-sunbae. But please give me a chance, I want to take you out on a date properly before you decide.”

Fiddling with the edge of Jinseong’s black shirt, he considers it for a moment, and finally nods. He’s tired of running away, but he can’t exactly deny his feelings for both Sanghyeok and Jinseong. “Okay. One date.”

Jinseong pulls away from the hug, eyes crinkling into tiny crescents. “Really? You can’t take your words back,” he says, cupping Wangho’s face. Wangho nods, looking away, unable to maintain eye contact. The smile on Jinseong’s face is so wide, and Wangho resists the urge to hold the warm hands that are around his cheeks.

“Just one date,” he repeats.

“Yes,” Jinseong says, tone serious, but he’s still smiling. “I have to go now, you should probably get back to studying. I’ll text you?”

“Okay,” Wangho replies, feeling the warmth leave his cheeks as Jinseong slides out of bed. He stands up, walking Jinseong to the door. “Bye.”

“Wait,” Jinseong says, turning back abruptly. He leans down slightly, and Wangho nearly takes a step back at how close their faces are. Then, he brings up Wangho’s right hand and places the softest, lightest peck on it, just above his knuckles, and Wangho instantly blushes bright red.

“Go away,” Wangho sputters, pushing Jinseong away to hide his face behind his hand. His heart feels like it’s about to jump out of his chest. “Go.”

Jinseong smirks, the corner of his lips turning up. “Bye, babe.”

Junsik lifts his headphones off a few minutes later, having won his game. “What did he want?”

“Um,” Wangho tries to formulate his thoughts into coherent sentences. He fiddles with his fingernails. “He asked me out. On a date, I mean. And I said yes.”

Tugging Wangho closer to where he’s seated, Junsik squeezes him tight, arms wrapped around him. “I’m proud of you for being willing to figure things out. When is it? I want to dress you up.”

“Wednesday. You don’t have to dress me up,” Wangho protests, but he holds onto Junsik, grinning down at him. “Don’t you think my stunning looks can carry?”

Junsik guffaws, reaching up to flick his forehead. “Yeah, yeah. But I still want to dress you up. I’ll lend you some of my branded clothes. We’ll make you look so extra good that Jinseong drools when he sees you.”

True enough, when Wednesday rolls around, Wangho stares at himself in the mirror, slightly amazed at his own outfit. Standing behind him, Junsik surveys his work, approving of the very expensive sweater exposing Wangho’s collarbones due to the larger sizing.

“You look freaking great, if I do say so myself,” Junsik gleefully comments, patting down the stray strands of blond hair sticking out. “Now, wear the shoes I bought for you for your birthday. Jinseong said he’ll be here soon, right?”

Swallowing his fears, Wangho nods, slipping on a clean pair of socks and wearing his shoes. He stands up, brushing off a stray piece of lint from his black jeans. “I’m nervous,” he mutters. There’s a knock on the door two seconds after he says this, and Junsik rushes to open it.

“Hey, hyung. I’m here for Wangho,” Jinseong tells him. Stepping aside, Junsik lets Jinseong take a few steps in. He stops in his tracks, making eye contact with Wangho.

“You...” Jinseong halts.

“Do I look weird?” Wangho asks awkwardly, looking down at his outfit. “I’ll go change.”

“No!” Jinseong immediately says, and Junsik is busy trying not to laugh at the whole situation, covering his own mouth with his left hand. “You look really good.”

Wangho looks at his shoes, unsure of how to respond. “Thank you. You look really good too,” he says, admiring the way the plain black shirt fitted Jinseong in all the right ways, and the way his black jeans hug at his thighs.

“Now, kids,” Junsik announces. “Get out and let me play League with Jaewan in peace.” He shoves them both out, waving before he all but slams the door in their face.

“You look really, really good,” Jinseong whispers, stretching his hand out. With his heart pounding loudly in his chest, Wangho takes his hand, slotting his fingers through the spaces between Jinseong’s fingers.

Like all the other times, they hang out, the only difference being the place they end up going to. Jinseong brings him to a nice eatery nearby, with nice fusion food so they can share a mix of Korean and Western cuisine. At the small table in the corner, they sit and laugh for hours, their arms stretched out across the table to brush hands. When Jinseong takes hold of his left hand, Wangho blushes furiously, trying his best to cool down by sipping his drink.

Everything feels the same, only that his stomach feels strange each time Jinseong laughs, or when Jinseong draws swirls on his hand with his thumb.

They leave after four hours, and Jinseong carefully holds his hand again as they make their way back to the dormitories. “I’m sorry I couldn’t book anything else in advance,” Jinseong apologises. “But I enjoyed spending time with you like that.”

“Me too,” Wangho replies, clutching on to Jinseong’s hand, huddling close. “It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken this much,” he smiles. “I missed this. Spending time with you, I mean.” They walk past several students, some of them heading back to the campus as well.

“If only you weren’t in such high demand,” teases Jinseong. “Junsik hogs you too much, and your other friends too.”

“Says you, Mr Popular! I heard you got another confession from someone recently,” Wangho jokes, but then realises it’s probably strange to joke like that now. “I mean, um,” he quickly tries to amend, but Jinseong laughs.

“I only have my eyes on you, though.”

Flustered, Wangho turns away. “You’re too direct,” he mumbles, wanting to cover his cheeks, but Jinseong’s hold on his hand is firm. “Don’t say things like that.”

“You know it’s true,” they walk into the lift, and Jinseong abruptly tugs him close, their chests touching.

“What —,” Wangho’s shocked yelp gets cut off as Jinseong hugs him tight. Wangho shuts his eyes, trembling in the embrace, like his head’s all fuzzy. Just like — just like the day he had kissed Sanghyeok.

At the sound of the lift bell dinging, they separate, and Jinseong pulls him out of the lift, walking him down the hallway. They stop right outside Wangho’s dormitory, and suddenly Wangho gets a flashback of the hazy Saturday night and leaning against Sanghyeok as they kick off their shoes, and the way he had enticed Sanghyeok to stay over. He shrugs that thought away.

“Thank you for bringing me out,” he says, and lets the warmth wash over him, breathing in the cologne clinging to Jinseong’s skin. “I had fun.”

“It’s your call now. You should decide,” Jinseong murmurs, pulling back from their hug a little. “Thank you for letting me bring you out.” Then, he leans in, cupping Wangho’s jaw with his left hand, his right hand now resting against the door. “May I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Wangho whispers, feeling something catch at his throat, and so they kiss, soft and gentle, like they have all the time in the world, like Jinseong’s the prince of everyone’s dreams and Wangho’s a lucky neighbouring country’s prince who’s captured his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) I tried to describe how everything’s the same, because they’ve been friends for a little more than a year now, so even though Jinseong’s chasing after Wangho romantically, there’s certain parts of their friendship that won’t change.  
> (2) I previously described Wangho’s and Jinseong’s relationship as “the prince and his princess” (see: chapter 10, where Jinseong wins his soccer match). There’s references to fairytales in this chapter (the chapter name, the song recommendation and the last sentence of this chapter), but the main difference is that I referred to them both as princes in the last line of this chapter. I did this deliberately to show the change in Wangho’s mindset and that it’s okay for two people of the same gender to like each other romantically.  
> (3) If you’re a fakenut fan, stick around for the next two chapters~ I promise you’ll like it!


	18. Let’s chase the morning light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho finally apologises to Sanghyeok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for 600 hits. It truly means the world to me that people bother reading what I write. I’m always thankful for all the kind comments. Please continue to give my writing some love!
> 
> Stay safe in these tough times. Remember to shower everyday and to have good hygiene! If you need anyone to talk to, my email is in my profile (you can come talk to me about anything you want). 
> 
> I previously uploaded this chapter instead of saving it as a draft, proceeded to freak out for two minutes, and then deleted the chapter. Go, me. What a genius. 
> 
> Please listen to ayokay’s “Sleepless Nights” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/4PUWpNtDejQwwa80LjvxXl?si=WsAhifvQQga3omOJ1NySzQ)

On the second to last week of the semester, Wangho finally gains the courage to open his chat with Sanghyeok. He lays in bed, staring at the single message that Sanghyeok had sent since the morning Wangho had treated him badly. It isn’t anything fancy, but Wangho feels terrible at the way the message is full of concern.

In particular, only one line had stuck out to him: ‘I’ll forget that it ever happened, so you don’t need to feel awkward around me.’ 

Somehow, just that single sentence makes his heart ache terribly, and it resounds in his head even as he casts his phone aside and stares up at the ceiling listlessly. 

“What’s wrong?” Junsik asks, busy typing out the last of his part for their group report. “Is it about the report? I’m nearly done with my part, so don’t worry. I can collate everyone’s parts together and make final edits if you’re too tired to.” 

“No, it’s not about the report. And I can do the final edits, don’t worry. You can just collate it,” Wangho replies, rolling so he’s laying on his right side. 

Junsik looks up. “What’s gotten you upset? You said your date with Jinseong last week went well.” 

“It did,” he mumbles, burying his entire self under his blanket, only his head sticking out. “It was fun.” 

“Then why are you sighing?”

“Sanghyeok-hyung,” Wangho simply says, like just the mere mention of the name would explain why he’s acting this way. 

It does, sort of. Junsik lets out a sound of understanding, fingers still moving fast on his keyboard. “And what about him?” 

“We kissed. I was drunk. And then I decided to practically throw him out of the room when I woke up.” It’s so pathetic how Wangho’s going back and forth between Jinseong and Sanghyeok, still unable to decide if he wants to be with either of them, even if he does have feelings for both of them. “Did I not tell you that part,” he says flatly. 

“You did,” Junsik replies, setting his laptop aside and sitting at the end of the bed, pushing Wangho’s feet aside to make room for himself. “So what are you going to do now? Have you spoken to him since then?” 

Shaking his head, Wangho hides his face under his blanket, but Junsik’s having none of it, ripping the blanket away from his face. “Talk to me. Stop bottling it up.” 

“I keep thinking that I’m going to see him around in school,” Wangho mutters, digging his fingernails into the soft material of his blanket. “The other day I thought I saw him at Comma Cafe from the corner of my eye. I tried to see if it was really him, but the person disappeared when I turned to look. It feels like I’m going crazy.” 

Like a displeased parent, Junsik shakes his head. “You’re probably just imagining things. If you’re feeling guilty, you should text him back and meet up with him to apologise. For, you know. Whatever you did,” he gestures into the air. 

But it’s definitely easier said than done. Wangho can think of a million excuses to say he can’t do that. 

He knows deep down in his heart that it’s time to face his own fears head on, though. Over the course of more than three months, he’s done nothing but make mistake after mistake, and he’s tired of hurting everyone around him. So he picks up his phone and types out a single ‘hi’, and then, a question about whether Sanghyeok’s free to meet up to talk. 

The reply comes surprisingly quick, Sanghyeok asking him for a time, date and place. Wangho’s eyes flits towards Junsik quickly, letting his roommate pull his phone closer to examine the contents of the message. Then, Junsik completely takes charge of his phone, typing down something. 

“Thank me later,” Junsik hands him back his phone, walking back to his own bed to grab his laptop, phone, and its charger. 

Wangho’s eyes widen when he reads the reply Junsik had sent out. “You! Did you just invite him to sleep over?”

“And I’m going over to Seunghoon’s room in exchange.” Junsik teases. “Have fun! You get a new roommate for tonight.” 

“No, no,” Wangho yowls, jumping up to cling onto his roommate’s arm to stop him from leaving. “This is ridiculous! You can’t just invite him to stay over like this!” 

“Already did,” Junsik unhelpfully replies, now stuffing his belongings into his bagpack and grabbing a fresh set of clothing from his wardrobe, as well as a towel. “Isn’t it cute, him having a sleepover so you both can sort out your shit all night long? I’m being so nice.” 

“No,” he pleads, trying his best to stop his roommate from packing his belongings. “I’m not ready to talk to him! And you said I should handle things only when I’m ready!” 

Junsik spins around, placing his now bulky bag on the table. “Don’t panic,” he says sternly, but his tone is still kind as usual. “Wangho, you can’t go on like this. You said so yourself. Our exams are coming up anyway. You should deal with things now. If anything goes wrong, call or text me, okay? I’ll put my phone ringer on and I’ll come back immediately if you text or call me.” 

Wangho sniffles a little, but nods. “You promise?” 

“Promise. I’ll even bring Jaewan and Seunghoon over to beat him up. He can’t win against all of us combined.” 

Junsik smiles placatingly, sitting down on his chair. “Make sure you talk things out. And remember to apologise for what you did.” 

It doesn’t take long till there’s a resounding knock on the door. Jumping up, Junsik eagerly swings open the door. 

“I’m here to talk to Wangho,” Sanghyeok says, offering a small smile. 

Junsik nods, his bag already slung around his shoulder. “Don’t try anything funny,” he jokes, clasping Sanghyeok’s shoulders with his hands, but there’s an unsaid real warning underneath all the niceties. 

Clearing his throat, Sanghyeok walks into the room after Junsik steps away, closing the door behind him. 

“Hi, hyung. Sorry for calling you over on such a short notice,” Wangho fiddles with his own sleeves, unsure of what to do. “Um, here. Have a seat,” he gestures to his chair. 

“Are you feeling better?” Sanghyeok asks, dumping his slippers at the door and sitting himself on the chair comfortably. 

Wangho nods awkwardly, sitting down on his bed so he’s facing Sanghyeok. There’s awkward silence, the air so suffocating and still. “So... I just wanted to apologise,” he breathes out, feeling the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Expressionless, Sanghyeok tilts his head to the side. 

“For what?”

“For,” hesitating, Wangho tries to string his thoughts into coherent sentences. “For doing that to you,” he finally settles for, lamely mumbling while avoiding eye contact. 

“It’s okay,” Sanghyeok’s voice is soft, gentle around the edges. “It’s fine. I told you, you don’t need to worry about it.” 

“I shouldn’t have,” it pains Wangho to say it out loud. “And I’m really sorry for treating you like that. I’m sorry, hyung.” For a split second, Wangho thinks he sees a hurt expression on the other boy’s face, but it disappears as quickly as it had appeared. 

“And I said it’s fine,” Sanghyeok says. “It’s fine, really. So don’t worry about it.”

They don’t talk for a long time, the only sounds in the room coming from the wall clock. It’s deafening, the silence, and Wangho has never felt this jittery. 

"I should go," Sanghyeok breaks the silence. 

"Don't," Wangho panics. "Please don't go." He immediately pulls his outstretched arm back, like the slightest touch of his hand against Sanghyeok's skin would burn him. "Stay, hyung."

Sanghyeok sits back down on the chair slowly. “Why are you shaking? Do I make you uneasy?” His voice is soft, so soft, and Wangho shuts his eyes to prevent himself from reeling in all the comfort. 

“No, hyung. I’m just really sorry,” he mumbles, still shutting his eyes. He curls into a ball, hugging his legs. He thinks back to the ferris wheel, and the loud beating of Sanghyeok's heart against his ear when they had hugged.

“Don’t be silly. I told you it’s fine,” Sanghyeok says simply. “It’s fine. I’m okay.” There's silence for a long time, and then Sanghyeok speaks again. "So, I guess I should congratulate you. I saw you and Jinseong together the other day. You both look good together," his voice sounds broken. 

Somehow, it hurts, even though Wangho doesn't try to correct him immediately. "Yeah," he mumbles, voice muffles against the sleeve of his sweater. "We went out on a date." 

“You both look good together,” Sanghyeok repeats monotonously. Wangho peers up to sneak a glance at the older boy. There’s no expression on his face; it’s completely devoid of emotion, but somehow the obsidian eyes tell a different story. 

“But I haven’t decided,” he blurts out. “I haven’t decided, so...” he trails off, letting the unspoken words rest on the tip of his tongue, unable to say that he wants to be selfish and have more time to think. 

There’s a flicker of emotion on Sanghyeok’s face now, and Wangho daringly reaches out his hand to rest it on Sanghyeok’s own hand, like Icarus who flew too close to the sun and got his wings destroyed. 

But Sanghyeok is warm and inviting, and suddenly Wangho’s spurred by the feelings in his gut to pull him over, letting Sanghyeok wordlessly straddle him on the bed. He laces their fingers together, and somehow it feels right. 

“You haven’t decided, and so?” Sanghyeok all but purrs, legs brushing against Wangho’s thighs. “What do you want now?”

“I like you,” Wangho begins, trying to explain himself. “I really do like you.”

“I know,” Sanghyeok lets out a short laugh, like he’s laughing at the sheer absurdity of the whole situation. “I don’t doubt that.” 

The silent question of whether Wangho likes Sanghyeok more than what he feels for Jinseong is clear. Wangho doesn’t answer that. He loops his fingers around Sanghyeok’s neck, peering up at the older boy from under his messy fringe. 

Sanghyeok is the sun, and Wangho is Icarus who strayed too far from the ground and will end up melting off under the heat of the rays. Wangho’s always been headstrong and aggressive at heart, the kind of person to know what he likes, but this time, he doesn’t actually know. 

But it’s so warm, like it’s safe, Wangho tells himself, as he abruptly tugs Sanghyeok down, so he can reach up and place a soft kiss on plush lips. 

But it’s so warm, like it wouldn’t hurt me, Wangho tells himself, as he lays back on the mattress with a light thump, letting Sanghyeok devour his lips hungrily. 

But it’s so warm, like this could burn forever and ever, Wangho tells himself, as he wraps his arms around Sanghyeok’s lithe body and pulls him in closer, so he can feel Sanghyeok’s body heat against his skin. 

“I’m sorry, hyung. For that time, and for this time.” 

“It’s okay,” Sanghyeok murmurs, casting his glasses aside so it wouldn’t slip off the bridge of his nose as he leans down to mouth at Wangho’s jaw. “Because I like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Icarus once had wings of wax, and he gleefully flew around. But he got too close to the sun, so his wax wings melted and he plunged into the sea.  
> (2) “I’m sorry, hyung. For that time, and for this time.”: Wangho’s apologising for being physically intimate (as intimate as kissing on a bed gets) with Sanghyeok when he actually hasn’t accepted Sanghyeok’s confession properly.   
> “For that time”: when he got drunk.   
> “For this time”: this chapter, where Wangho, on a whim, gets physical with Sanghyeok again.   
> (3) “It’s okay, because I like you.”: this is Sanghyeok’s roundabout way of telling Wangho that he’s still waiting for an answer, so in the meantime he’ll let Wangho do whatever he feels like doing.  
> (4) I’m actually more focused on Wangho’s character development than who he ends up with. I’ve tried to show how he goes from complete denial of what he wants, to being fine with holding hands in public and having slightly intimate physical contact with people of the same gender as him. I hope you’re all fine with the pace! I’m sorry if it’s too slow. I’ll try my best to write a decent ending.


	19. Some room to grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Examination season is coming, so Wangho tries his best to study — keyword being “tries”. Seunghoon and Jaewan both question him about what’s been going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Jeremy Zucker’s “oh, mexico” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/2ozLskt1nSbuesveWeW4gp?si=GRxz9l8UQXONKVluMfbrPA)

Things get better. As best as it gets.

Wangho spends long hours at his study table, studying for his end of semester examinations. Occasionally, when he’s feeling up to it, he finds a seat in Comma Cafe to sip at his iced soda and run his fingers daringly down Sanghyeok’s arm, just to mess with him. It almost always backfires, because Sanghyeok has a tendency to grab his wrist and give him a patronising smile.

It’s the push and pull, and Sanghyeok always sits a little closer, grins a little wider, especially when he playfully kicks at Wangho’s ankles lightly with the help of his longer legs.

But Wangho likes it. He likes this impermanence, this lines blurred, grey area sort of thing.

Wangho likes that he can turn to his left and see Sanghyeok seated next to him, the sunlight hitting angles of his face in all the right ways. When they’re studying, Sanghyeok never fails to move his chair closer so their hands brush when he’s flipping a page of his textbook and Wangho’s hand strays away from his laptop. During their dinners together, Wangho always laughs when Sanghyeok stuffs his cheeks with so much food that his cheeks bulge a little.

Even though he likes all these things, there’s something scary in committing to a single person. Choosing someone to invest time, and effort, and a bottle load of feelings is difficult. Wangho doesn’t think he’d be treated badly by either Jinseong or Sanghyeok, but he doesn’t want to regret choosing someone he doesn’t end up truly falling for. Or, maybe he’s just a romantic at heart for believing that there’s true love in this world.

Some people would call him selfish for needing so much time to think. Wangho doesn’t want to know what his roommate thinks of him stringing along two boys on a wild goose chase — not that Junsik has ever judged him for all the silly things he’s done before.

On Saturday, Seunghoon joins them, complaining that he’s too distracted by his games to concentrate in his shared room with Sanghyeok. The three of them spend half an hour bantering away before Wangho tells both older boys to shut up and let him concentrate on studying.

When Sanghyeok leaves for the restroom eventually, Seunghoon taps lightly on the top of Wangho’s laptop, trying to catch his attention.

“Yeah?” Wangho pulls off his earphones, looking up.

“Not sure how to say this, but,” Seunghoon says, his volume lower than usual. “Are you two seeing each other?”

Wangho blinks, processing the question in his head. “No,” he replies unsurely. “We’re just friends, I think.”

Twirling his straw, Seunghoon chews on his lower lip. “Just friends?”

“Shouldn’t you be disgusted?” Wangho blurts out. “That I like him in that way?”

Seunghoon shakes his head. “It’s not my place to judge.” He pauses, sipping at his drink. It makes Wangho more nervous, and his eyes dart to the direction of the restroom to make sure Sanghyeok isn’t out yet. “As a friend of you both, I’m telling you that you need to decide soon on whether you want to date him or date Jinseong. It’s not healthy, this kind of relationship you have. It won’t last.”

Taken aback, Wangho stutters. “How do you know about Jinseong?”

“I’m not stupid. I passed you the bouquet of roses from him when we were at the League competition,” Seunghoon laughs. “Seriously, you’re too obvious. I even saw you holding hands with him the other day. Guess who had to deal with your beloved hyung when he threw a tantrum and sulked when he saw you both?”

From the corner of his eye, he spots Sanghyeok making his way back, typing something on his phone. The both of them quickly look back at their own laptops, pretending that they didn’t just have a whole conversation about Wangho’s inability to make a decision about his love life.

Sanghyeok sits back down on his chair and proceeds to read from his textbook, but it takes Wangho a long time till he’s able to focus on his work again.

Two days later, Wangho meets Jinseong at the cafeteria in school.

It’s a coincidence, really. Wangho’s waiting for Jaewan to be done with his duties as a teaching assistant, coaching someone in a random subject that Wangho’s never heard of. Jaewan’s always been kind like that, always willing to help out no matter how much of a fuss he makes when he complains about being too busy.

Wangho turns around the corner to go towards the vending machine, and promptly bumps into someone, stumbling back a little. Thankfully, the person’s fast reflexes come in handy, and Wangho’s saved from falling and possibly bashing his own skull against the hard flooring.

“Babe, are you okay?” Jinseong quickly asks, stabilising Wangho.

“Fuck, I thought I was going to die,” Wangho curses out, before his eyes eventually focus on the figure in front of him. “Oh, hey!”

“What are you doing here?” Jinseong asks, his arm now around Wangho’s waist, curling against his side. “I thought you said you’re going to study with someone else?”

Wangho nods. “I’m waiting for Jaewan-hyung. He’s teaching someone in the library now, but he said he’ll be done soon. I wanted to go get a drink.”

“Okay,” Jinseong drags him over to the vending machine, leaning against it as Wangho fiddles with his coins and slots it into the machine. He grabs the soda can that tumbles down, and clicks it open to gulp at it.

Jinseong’s arm is back on his waist, and Wangho leans in closer, tucking himself by Jinseong’s side. They share the soda between them as they make their way to the library, Jinseong insistent on walking him there.

After waiting for a couple of minutes, Jaewan finally emerges from the library, and, to his surprise, with Sangho in tow.

“Oh! You’re the person Jaewan-hyung is coaching?” Wangho asks in immense surprise, giving a small wave. 

Jaewan seems to be staring intently at Jinseong’s hand still resting on the curve of Wangho’s waist, but says nothing. Sangho nods and greets them both nicely, but leaves quickly after exchanging a few words with Jaewan. Flashing a smile, Jinseong pokes at Wangho’s cheek with a finger, waving at them both as he trails behind Sangho, yelling at him to wait.

Now left with Jaewan, Wangho greets him happily and they make their way to another cafe —with Wangho definitely not keen on going to Comma Cafe, because he’s been there three days in a row with Sanghyeok. Their studying goes smoothly, and Jaewan even offers to pay for their drinks because he’s in a good mood.

They walk back to their dormitory block around ten in the evening after stopping by the convenience store for a quick dinner. Jaewan’s been looking at him oddly, and it feels like a thorn in Wangho’s side, because he wants to ask what Jaewan wants but is afraid of hearing something he won’t like.

“You’re going out with that Jinseong boy?” Jaewan asks smoothly, looking ahead as they walk. It makes Wangho feel more at ease now that Jaewan isn’t staring at him weirdly, but he hesitates in his answer.

“We’re not,” he finally says.

“Then? You’re going out with Sanghyeok?”

“We’re not, either,” Wangho replies, but he’s reluctant to say anything further. Jaewan nods and they separate when they move nearer to Wangho’s block. They wave goodbye at each other like Jaewan hadn’t just outrightly asked about Wangho’s sexuality, and like Wangho hadn’t, for once, vehemently denied anything.

Things feel strange, but at least it’s progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) In this story, Wangho used to deny very strongly about dating Sanghyeok/Jinseong or about having a boyfriend when teased by either Junsik, Jaewan or Seunghoon.  
> (2) I’ve been having problems with writing this story recently. I don’t have chapter 20 written yet. I’m sorry! I will do better, I promise.


	20. Oh, it hurts so bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho goes out with Sanghyeok the day after his examination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Gabrielle Aplin’s and JP Cooper’s “Losing Me” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/4P6g8wuXeR3wznFk7WnI4w?si=g9GIfZalSSOi3WNKuKaT7Q)

The first thing Wangho does after his final examination is take a long nap.

Granted, it’s not really a nap, and more of a gigantic slumber. He goes to sleep at four in the afternoon and wakes up at eleven in the morning the next day, with his face smushed into his pillow and his arm feeling numb from his body having squished it down the whole night.

He takes his time to stretch his arms, twisting his waist and trying to awaken his heavy limbs. On the other side of the room, Junsik’s bed is empty, Junsik having gone back to his home since his examinations had ended two days earlier.

The onslaught of messages that flood in from his friends when he turns it off from airplane mode makes his phone freeze momentarily. It buzzes continuously, and for a good thirty seconds, Wangho has to sit and wait for his phone to load everything.

Kanghui’s messages sit at the very top, an invitation to some end-of-semester party. He replies a quick yes, telling him that he’ll be there for the party that’s happening on Sunday. Then, he opens the chat between himself and Jaewan, laughing when he sees Jaewan’s spam asking for his whereabouts, only for him to realise eventually that Wangho’s probably sleeping.

He clears out the other notifications, taking his time to respond. Finally, he opens the chat between him and Sanghyeok, and a warmth promptly spreads to his stomach. Sanghyeok had sent him a cute sticker and a short message telling him to rest well after his final paper. Grinning to himself, he replies with a cat sticker, and, because he’s feeling bold, takes a photo of himself, although he hides his face behind his hand so Sanghyeok only gets to see his messy hair and his shirt.

To his surprise, Sanghyeok replies a few minutes later, telling him that it’s a cute picture and asking him about his plans for the day. Everyone seems to complain that Sanghyeok never responds to texts or responds too late, but somehow, Wangho’s never had that kind of problem, and it makes him feel special.

He replies to tell the older boy that he has no plans for the day, and Sanghyeok immediately tells him to get ready to go out. With his heart thrumming in excitement, he showers quickly after plugging his phone into its charger, humming to himself happily.

He makes sure to clean his teeth and face well, and dries his hair swiftly. Now wearing a black shirt and a blue pair of denim jeans, he examines himself in the mirror, trying to make his lips look better with the help of some cheap lip balm he had bought from the convenience store at the beginning of the semester.

His phone buzzes again, and he instantly dives for it, opening the new messages excitedly. Sanghyeok tells him he’ll be going over to Wangho’s dormitory block, to which Wangho responds with a cute sticker of a cat with a thumbs up.

After preening at himself in the mirror for the next eight minutes, he eventually slips on his shoes and tucks his wallet and earphones into the pocket of his jeans. When he gets out of the building, he pokes at the older boy’s back, yelling a loud “boo!”

Sanghyeok is unfazed, but he does let out a laugh.

They make their way to the nearby mall to get brunch. Wangho boldly slips his arm around Sanghyeok’s arm as he always does, and chats happily about things he wants to do during the break. Sanghyeok smiles and responds warmly, occasionally adding in a comment or two.

They find an empty spot at a pancake and waffles diner and stuff themselves silly. Wangho orders a big plate of chocolate-drizzled pancakes and honey-glazed bacon on the side.

Just like the characters from one of Wangho’s cliche romance comics, Sanghyeok thumbs at his lip to wipe away stray stains of chocolate. Wangho turns his head away. “You could have just told me,” he mumbles in protest, but Sanghyeok laughs and kicks his foot lightly.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“There’s no fun in wiping chocolate away from my mouth,” Wangho points out, spearing through the last of his fluffy pancake with his fork and nibbling on it.

“It’s fun for me,” Sanghyeok grins. His own plate is now empty, the fries, waffles and chicken having disappeared quickly. He waves the waiter over and promptly hands his card to him before Wangho can even open his mouth to offer to pay.

Wangho pouts, wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “Hyung! Why are you always paying for me?”

“Just because,” the response is annoying and so Sanghyeok-like. Wangho rolls his eyes and kicks at the older boy’s foot lightly.

They’re both not really the type of people to go out often, so they find a small eatery and sit themselves near the corner to chat after walking around the mall for a few hours. Wangho realises that Sanghyeok is now a lot more talkative than he was when they first met, more animated, more expressive. It makes his tummy feel like there’s tiny fairy dust in it, as strange as it sounds, when Sanghyeok tells him a silly joke and laughs at it on his own.

The cup of soda Wangho has been sipping at is almost empty, and so is the plate of chicken nuggets they shared, with them having opted to use forks to avoid dirtying their hands. Sanghyeok pushes aside the plate and offers him a hand, and Wangho takes it, pressing his sweaty palm against his pants before doing so.

For a moment, it feels like he could get used to this, could get used to holding hands in public and showing off that they’re clearly more than just friends, but his phone rings and he startles.

His mother is calling him.

Harshly tugging away his hand, he picks up the phone, trying to stop his lower lip from quivering. As extra measure, he turns his body away, sitting sideways on his chair to hide his face. He chats with her quietly, telling her that he isn’t going home for the holidays because he’s busy, even though it’s really just a lie.

Home is sometimes suffocating, even though his mother is pleasant and supportive, because he isn’t one of the cookie-cutter perfect grade A students that all parents want.

The call ends as smooth as it could, but the panic has set in and all that’s plaguing Wangho is the thought of disappointing his mother again, this time because he like boys and he probably won’t be able to give her grandchildren in the future.

Sanghyeok waves a hand in front of his face worriedly. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he plasters a smile on his face. “Hyung, I’m really tired. I want to go back and rest. Bring me back?”

“Okay,” Sanghyeok leads him out of the eatery slowly, and they head back to the dormitory. Wangho clings onto Sanghyeok’s thin wrist, wanting to feel something in his hand, desperate to distract himself from overthinking.

They arrive back at his dormitory room, and Wangho hesitates at the door after unlocking it. “Junsik’s gone back home,” he says on a whim, hinting. Sanghyeok smiles gently and follows behind him, shutting and locking the door.

They tumble onto Wangho’s bed, and suddenly Wangho feels relieved at the fact that he and Junsik had cleaned their room a few days ago. Sanghyeok kisses him gently, lips pressing fully onto his, and Wangho feels like he’s floating on cloud nine, responding back while his fingers cling onto Sanghyeok’s shirt. It’s nothing short of physical, and it’s like Wangho’s falling down into the abyss with no way out — and maybe, he doesn’t want to leave either.

Sanghyeok chucks his glasses aside, fingers lifting Wangho’s shirt slightly to sink down onto bare skin. Unable to control himself, Wangho mewls, twisting his waist a little. University is a tough place to be in, and if nothing else, a bad place to have romantic trysts and physical activities, especially for students who have roommates. Wangho hasn’t been able to be in contact with anyone like this, and frankly speaking, he likes it.

He feels good, and the bad thoughts are kept at bay whenever Sanghyeok’s lips pepper kisses on his skin. He feels good, and he doesn’t want it to stop.

“I like you,” Wangho whispers, as he pulls Sanghyeok down, and the curve of Sanghyeok’s hand against his waist is familiar. It’s comforting, even. Sanghyeok places fleeting kisses on his skin at the base of his neck, right above his collar bone. Letting him, Wangho tilts his head to the side and grips down on black hair, occasionally combing his fingers through the dark locks.

Sanghyeok laughs, short and amused, lips against his skin and breaths coming out in tiny puffs. “I know. You told me before.”

“I like you,” Wangho finds it easier to admit now, and he earnestly tugs at Sanghyeok’s hair slightly to tilt the older boy’s head. He tries not to tear up at the mixed feelings swirling in his chest, telling him that he can’t date a boy even though he wants to try. “I really like you.”

Sanghyeok smiles, like he’s not surprised. “I know that. You don’t have to repeat it.” He adjusts his position, palms pressing down on the sheets on either side of Wangho’s face.

“How are you so sure, hyung?”

“I’m the only one who’s been able to be with you like this, aren’t I?” The heady rush that registers into Wangho’s head lets him know that Sanghyeok’s competitive streak is showing. “No one else.”

Staring at obsidian eyes, Wangho stops to think. “You’re right,” he affirms.

“Be with me,” Sanghyeok stares down at him seriously, something glinting behind his eyes. “Be with me for real, Wangho. I don’t want us to just play around anymore.”

“I’m not ready,” Wangho mumbles, turning his head to the side, although he can still feel the intensity of Sanghyeok’s gaze. It feels like something heavy pressing on his chest, like the onset of a restless night. “I can’t. Not yet.” He doesn’t want to be a disappointment.

The heat from Sanghyeok’s body leaves when he moves to sit down next to him instead. Wangho curls up, his back facing Sanghyeok.

“Not yet,” Sanghyeok echoes, like he’s trying to process what it means. “It’s okay. I’ll wait.”

“I’m sorry,” Wangho whispers. “Hold me, hyung?” It’s the early hours of the evening, but Wangho feels so drained, so tired, like he just wants to sleep the sadness away. Without Sanghyeok’s hands on his body, Wangho can’t distract himself enough from the thoughts in his head.

Sanghyeok moves him up so his head is now resting comfortably on the pillow. Like soft petals, there’s an outline of lips against his neck, like a tiny apology; although, Sanghyeok isn’t the one who should be sorry. “I’ll hold you for as long as you want me to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) I made a [Twitter account](https://mobile.twitter.com/emperortwilight) where I’ll post sneak peeks and snippets, and you can talk to me.  
> (2) For a lot of Asian countries, parents tend to stress on grades, wanting their children to become people they perceive as great, to become doctors and lawyers and politicians even though there are a ton of jobs out there that are equally important. In this story, Wangho’s doing a Business course, which is something I’ve personally heard my relatives mock at because they don’t think it’s prestigious enough. (Note: this is NOT my own view).  
> (3) There’s also this thing about Asian parents wanting grandchildren. I don’t know what it is, but it’s just like that. (My own parents, for one).  
> (4) I think there’s a difference between being physically intimate and being emotionally intimate, which is why Wangho is fine with kissing and hugging but he’s not yet emotionally ready to be dating someone. It’s easier to cut ties with someone you’re just physically intimate with, as opposed to cutting ties with someone you’ve already invested all your emotions and energy into. This, along with the fact that he’s also scared of disappointing his mother because he’s gay, makes him feel like he can’t date Sanghyeok yet.


	21. Summer friends, subtle lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It feels good to wake up next to someone in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Jeremy Zucker's "somebody loves you" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/4YKcx7YxznAdBefrYdCZ9P?si=d8OeVchUSmy2vSF3PrPGTw)

It feels good to wake up next to someone in the morning.

Wangho stirs, moving closer to feel the warmth emanating from Sanghyeok. Sanghyeok had gone back to his dormitory yesterday to wash up, bringing his own supplies so he can stay over with Wangho for two nights until Junsik gets back on Sunday.

There’s something in his brain that tells him that it’s wrong to use Sanghyeok as a distraction from the sad thoughts. It’s wrong, so wrong, but Sanghyeok is adamant about staying over to give Wangho any kind of comfort he needs, and Wangho isn’t the kind of person to say no to something he wants.

Plush lips press against his head, and Wangho lets out a small whine, hands grabbing at Sanghyeok’s waist to mesh their bodies together. “Good morning,” Sanghyeok’s voice is gravelly and rough, and it sends shivers down Wangho’s spine.

“Good morning, hyung,” he mumbles. Discreetly, he also burrows his head closer to smell Sanghyeok’s scent, his shirt smelling like fresh, clean laundry. “Any plans for today?”

“Nothing much. Do you want to play League? I brought my laptop over.”

“How romantic,” Wangho jokes. “What is this, League and chill?”

Sanghyeok flicks at his forehead. “Come on. I still owe you that Xayah-Rakan game. I’ll support you. We’ll definitely win.”

They don’t win, but Sanghyeok makes up for it by carrying the next game on his Zoe, letting Wangho sit back and happily destroy everyone with his Lee Sin.

Once their food delivery arrives, they sit on the floor with Wangho’s laptop playing episodes of an anime he had insisted on making Sanghyeok watch, and they chew on mouthfuls of pizza in between large gulps of soda. Sanghyeok nearly stains his white shirt with tomato sauce from the pizza, but his fast reflexes thankfully saves his shirt, staining Wangho’s carpet instead. Wangho whines, frantically trying to clean the stain off while Sanghyeok laughs unhelpfully and tells him to buy a new carpet instead.

They do end up going out to buy a carpet, because that’s really their only excuse for going out. The sunlight feels good against Wangho’s skin, and he hums when the breeze ruffles his hair gently. There aren’t many students around since it’s a Friday and it’s the last day of the examination period, so they get to hog the sidewalk and the relatively more empty bus as they make their way to the nearby mall at a snail’s pace.

Sanghyeok guides him, making sure Wangho’s walking along the inner side of the pavement, safely away from the road.

“Hyung, what did Seunghoon-hyung say when you told him you’re staying over with me?”

“Nothing much. When I went back yesterday, he was busy mugging for his exam that’s scheduled for today, so I don’t think he paid much attention,” Sanghyeok replies. Slender fingers run down Wangho’s arm, smoothly slipping into the spaces between his fingers. Comfortably, Wangho curls his fingers around Sanghyeok’s hand, smiling up at the older boy.

“Huh, I thought he’d be more annoying,” remarks Wangho, causing Sanghyeok to chuckle. “Really! He kept asking me about you.”

The small smirk that appears on Sanghyeok’s face is both infuriating and endearing at the same time. “Maybe he kept asking because I’m just that stunning and I’m such a great catch.”

“Hyung, we both know I’m the handsome one,” Wangho teases.

Sanghyeok rolls his eyes, elbowing him lightly. “Your looks pale in comparison compared to mine.”

“Oh, that hurts,” Wangho pretends, placing his free hand over his own chest. “Hyung, why are you so mean?”

The older boy doesn’t fall for it completely, but his gaze softens. “You’re gorgeous,” he says effortlessly, stealing away the breath from Wangho’s lungs. Then, because he’s Sanghyeok, he deadpans and adds, “but I’m the prettiest one in this land.”

Bursting into giggles, Wangho punches the older boy’s arm. “You should have just stopped after the compliment,” he complains, but he’s glad that Sanghyeok’s still as playful as ever, electing not to tread lightly as if Wangho’s made of glass.

They eventually pick out a cheap and tiny carpet at the home section of the departmental store, and the cashier helpfully rolls it up and places it into a plastic bag. Wangho insists on carrying it on his own, because he’s independent and doesn’t need Sanghyeok fussing around him. Of course, Sanghyeok lets him do what he wants, telling him that he doesn’t care as long as Wangho’s right hand is free for him to hold.

They buy takeout, a box of fried rice each with small containers of side dishes and kimchi, along with large cuts of meat. After hurrying back to Wangho’s dormitory, they feast on their dinner while seated on the old carpet, because Wangho doesn’t want his new carpet ruined and for Junsik to come back to the dormitory to a carpet-less floor.

Opting for an early night, they take turns to shower and wash up. When Sanghyeok comes out of the shower, his hair damp and dressed in a thin white shirt and a pair of loose shorts, Wangho suddenly feels overly-conscious.

“You’re staring again,” Sanghyeok comments, fiddling with the hair dryer.

“You always say that,” Wangho replies, laying on his stomach while watching Sanghyeok struggle with the dryer. “Come here, hyung. I’ll help you dry your hair. That dryer sucks, I bought it at some strange store.”

Sanghyeok wordlessly sits on the chair while Wangho sits on the edge of his bed, stretching over to take the dryer from Sanghyeok’s hands. “Tilt your head down,” Wangho instructs, and surprisingly, Sanghyeok is obedient, bending down a little so Wangho doesn’t need to reach up too far.

It feels oddly intimate, drying someone’s hair for them after they’ve just taken a shower in your bathroom using your shampoo and body soap. Sanghyeok smells like Wangho’s body wash, but somehow, it smells significantly better than what Wangho had ever thought it could smell like. He runs his fingers through black locks, carefully leaving some distance between the dryer and Sanghyeok’s hair.

He feels his face heat up when Sanghyeok shuts his eyes, his face serene and his posture at ease. It isn’t the first time Wangho’s thought of Sanghyeok as pretty, but looking at his face this up close, Wangho can’t help but succumb a little to his temptations, sliding his left hand down from Sanghyeok’s hair to his jaw just because he can.

The dryer is loud, but Wangho can feel the way Sanghyeok’s breath hitches as he presses his thumb against the corner of soft lips.

Wangho snaps out of it, removing his left hand away quickly and switching off the dryer in his right hand. “I should get my hair dyed back to black,” Wangho mumbles, to change the atmosphere in the room. “Here, hyung. Just unplug the dryer and put it on Junsik’s table.”

“Why? You don’t like your blond hair anymore?” Sanghyeok asks, standing up to do as Wangho had instructed. He doesn’t mention anything else, doesn’t mention the way Wangho’s playing the push and pull game but is too much of a coward to commit to Sanghyeok completely.

Wangho crawls back under his blanket, lifting it up to let Sanghyeok slip under as well. “Maybe some change would be nice,” Wangho says. He adjusts the fan speed with the tiny remote, making sure it’s not too cold for the both of them.

“When are you going to dye it?” Sanghyeok tilts his head in curiosity, picking up a lock of Wangho’s dyed blond hair to inspect the colour. “I can’t imagine how you’d look like with black hair.”

Wangho laughs, ducking his head. “Maybe next week. By the way, Junsik says hi and asks how you’re doing while being stuck with me till he gets back,” he looks down at his phone, typing a response.

“Hi,” Sanghyeok says.

“That’s all you’re going to say?” Wangho laughs, fingers quick to type.

Sanghyeok shrugs. “My words are expensive.”

Rolling his eyes, Wangho lets out a smile, hitting the older boy playfully with the back of his hand. “Get out of my bed. You’re sleeping on the floor tonight. You can test out the new carpet.”

“No, I’ll get cold,” Sanghyeok refuses, then giving a cheeky response that flusters Wangho. “Okay, fine. Tell him I said hi and I’m doing fine and I hope he doesn’t come back to the dormitory while you and I are doing things together.”

“Hyung!” Wangho pouts. He types out the first half of Sanghyeok’s response, leaving out the latter part of it. Like the Cheshire Cat, Sanghyeok grins widely, shutting off the night light and pulling Wangho down so they’re now both lying in bed in darkness.

“What,” Sanghyeok says flatly. “What are you thinking of? I didn’t mention what kind of things we could be doing,” he noses at Wangho’s neck, nuzzling lightly.

Wangho laughs, setting his phone down next to the pillow. “Don’t act innocent, hyung.”

“But I’m innocent. Why are you so mean to me,” Sanghyeok’s voice is low, hot breaths against his ear. Wangho squeals and pushes him away lightly, goosebumps forming on his skin.

“Hyung!” Wangho whines. “That tickles.”

“I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” Sanghyeok grumbles, clutching at Wangho’s waist. “Come back, you’re too far.”

In the darkness, Wangho moves closer, pressing against the older boy. “Hyung, why do you like me?”

“Are you asking for compliments?” Sanghyeok teases.

“No, I was just wondering.” Wangho is suddenly glad that the small night lamp next to his bed has been switched off, because he’s pretty sure he’s blushing.

“Do I need a reason? I just do.”

Sighing dramatically, Wangho jokes. “Wow, that’s a boring answer.” He lifts his hand up to place it on Sanghyeok’s arm, resting it on the lean muscle. “Tell me why, hyung.”

Sanghyeok hums, stroking the back of Wangho’s neck. “I was interested in you at first because I heard what you said.”

“Huh?” Wangho replies unintelligibly. “What did I say?”

“When I first saw you, you were saying that I’m just a regular guy who probably wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Sanghyeok explains and, not letting any further questions be asked, pulls him closer.

Wangho feels soft lips against his, and he presses back eagerly, hands groping in the dark, gliding down Sanghyeok’s shirt. It feels good, and it feels like there’s nothing better in this world. The feelings stirring in his heart helps Wangho to decide that he really does want this, he wants Sanghyeok like this, and he wants them to be more than just friends who kiss and hug. But he’s so scared, he’s scared of the consequences and of disappointing his mother again and he doesn’t want to think about home.

They separate for air, breaths mingling. “Hyung,” Wangho says, voice small and soft. “We can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this to you.”

“You can do whatever you want,” Sanghyeok replies. “I’m here.”

Wangho doesn’t really sleep that night. He relishes in the comfort of having warm arms around him, but he racks his brain about what to do with the situation between him and Jinseong and Sanghyeok. Having been so preoccupied with Sanghyeok, and having Sanghyeok’s lips against his skin to distract him, Wangho has slowly drifted away from what he was really stuck trying to make a decision about.

At the end of all this, in spite of all the steps he’s been trying to take, he’s still stuck at the crossroad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Click [this](https://twitter.com/emperortwilight) for my Twitter.  
> (2) Wangho says, “League and chill?” as a reference to “Netflix and chill”.  
> (3) Click [this](https://www.invenglobal.com/articles/11067/lck-finals-t1-faker-i-cant-believe-that-ive-won-the-championship-nine-times) to see the interview where Faker gives a one-word response to his fellow League player.  
> (4) In Chapter 1, Wangho was the one who convinced Junsik to walk along the path near the bench Sanghyeok was seated on, even though Junsik had told him about Sanghyeok punching two people.  
> (5) Wangho still hasn’t rejected either Sanghyeok and Jinseong. He's selfish for wanting the best of both worlds. At the same time, another reason why he’s trying to avoid choosing either of them is because then it becomes a commitment to one person and one person only. Further, if he chooses to date one of them, then it "confirms" the fact that he’s gay and he thinks his mother will be disappointed if she finds out that he is. (He'll choose soon, I think).


	22. Loving two people at the same time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho goes to the end-of-semester celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Jaymes Young’s "two people" as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/3guZzFjyEutpq8Y58RTI3z?si=G789EQtUR8qxhIt52asO4g)

“Hyung, are you sure you don’t want to come along? It’s just the bar near our campus,” Wangho flits back and forth in Sanghyeok’s room, adjusting his hair while looking in the mirror. Sanghyeok grunts to say yes, watching as Seunghoon applies an excessive amount of hair spray. 

“Leave him, he’s too lazy to socialise at this odd hour,” Seunghoon adds unhelpfully, but Wangho thinks that isn’t the case. 

“Have fun,” Sanghyeok replies dismissively, hiding under his blanket. 

Wangho lags behind a little, wanting to stroke his fingers through dark hair to gently ask Sanghyeok about what’s bothering him, but Seunghoon yells from the doorway, having already worn his shoes and grabbed his wallet and phone. 

“We’re going now, hyung. Sleep well,” Wangho greets. Sanghyeok reaches out to press the tips of his fingers against Wangho’s wrist for a fleeting moment, leaving traces of heat against it, before completely burrowing himself under his blanket. 

The bar is slightly stuffy, but they manage to squeeze together at a table. Kanghui’s friend had managed to reserve half the bar, and of course, being a close friend of Kanghui’s, Wangho gets a long table to himself for him and his friends to use. 

He gives Junsik a hug, happy that his friend is back. Junsik tells him that he’s staying for a week to tie up loose ends for the semester before going back to spend his holidays with his parents. 

Kanghui points him to the table, promising to join him later. There’s a few girls, and Wangho recognises one of them right away, so he offers her a grin and gestures for her to take a seat at the table. She waves at him, plopping herself down next to Junsik, sitting across from Wangho. 

“Hey,” she greets breezily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I haven’t seen you around in a long time.”

“Been busy studying. Thank god our exams over,” Wangho says, nibbling on the fries that were served by the waiter a few seconds ago. Jaewan takes a seat next to her after introducing himself and asking her for permission, while Jinseong grabs the seat next to Wangho, sitting across from Junsik. Haneul, Seunghoon, and two of Seunghoon’s female friends join in, and they all introduce themselves and order bottles of alcoholic drinks to share.

“Can’t believe I get to sit at the same table as the soccer star,” one of Seunghoon’s friends says teasingly. Jinseong rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, offering a polite half-bow. He sits closer to Wangho, occasionally leaning over to get more fries and chips. 

Kanghui and his friend come around to join them for some games. They play spin the bottle after everyone’s had their share of alcohol poured into their cups, and they boisterously clap their hands whenever someone asks a weird question or gives a weird task for the chosen person to carry out. 

Junsik dances drunkenly with Jaewan for a minute, while Wangho is forced to act cute to someone at the table (he had chosen Haneul, because he was the safest choice, but Jinseong was glaring daggers at Haneul for a good ten minutes after that).

Seunghoon’s friends had to perform a ballroom dance in the middle of the bar, which they brazenly did while making the most dramatic facial expressions. Seunghoon himself had to admit to having once peed on his bed by accident because he was too drunk.

In between their games, Wangho sneakily checks his phone to see if there are messages from Sanghyeok. Frowning at his empty inbox, he places his phone back down on the table and shoves a handful of chips into his mouth, chewing anxiously. Something’s bugging him, something in the way Sanghyeok had peered up at him from under his blanket, as if asking him silently to stay. 

He shrugs it away. Sanghyeok could be asleep by now, or he could be busy reading a book.

“Let’s play the naming game,” someone suggests. Wangho’s too busy ordering more food to pay attention to who’s talking. “We take turns to say a word or phrase, and everyone has to point at someone whom it describes the best. The person with the most votes has to drink!”

Everyone quickly agrees, and Wangho manages to order two more baskets of nuggets, with Jaewan shouting his order of chicken wings.

It’s tame at first, with words like “smart”, “funny” and “cool” being thrown out. Jinseong gets crowned the most sociable. Junsik gets deemed “smart”, just from his sheer ability to not study and still get decent grades for tests. Nodding vigorously, Wangho attests for it, sharing with everyone the time he had studied for three days for a test while Junsik had flipped through his notes for two hours and had annoyingly gotten a higher score.

Someone yells, “cutest person at the table,” and instantly, a bunch of fingers point towards Wangho. He blinks, and awkwardly pours himself a glass, ready to gulp down his fourth shot of the night.

Jinseong picks the cup out of his hand easily, explaining to everyone that he wants to drink on Wangho’s behalf. Wangho fiddles with the long sleeves of his black pullover as everyone at the table cheers and claps when Jinseong downs the shot. None of the girls have been drinking much since Junsik or Seunghoon would volunteer to drink on their behalf, but Wangho hasn’t been drinking much either, and it makes him feel a little self-conscious that he might not be seen as manly enough since someone else is taking a shot for him. 

In one of the rounds after that, Seunghoon’s friend shouts out, “most innocent-looking!” A little less than half of them point towards Wangho, but a majority of them, Wangho included, point towards Haneul. 

“Man, I hate you all,” Haneul complains, but just as he’s about to reach for the bottle to pour the shot, Jaewan intercepts, pulling the bottle towards his own shot glass. 

“I’ll drink for you. I’m in the mood to drink,” Jaewan explains, quickly taking the shot. Everyone hollers noisily, with Wangho instantly feeling a silly form of relief. While they’re all laughing at someone who unknowingly crashes into their table, with Junsik standing up to help him stabilise, Jaewan catches Wangho’s attention and winks, as if to tell him that he knows what Wangho’s been worried about. 

“Thank you,” Wangho mouths. Jaewan grins and proceeds to stuff a chicken wing into his own mouth. Jaewan’s always been more perceptive, more understanding, and it makes Wangho’s insides feel warm at the thought of his own friend looking out for his well-being. 

As the night gets later and their eyes get heavier, the games get slower. Some of them wander off from the table, hanging out with the others. Intoxicated, Jinseong is extra bold and handsy, rubbing his palms against the material of Wangho’s pullover, grabbing at Wangho’s arms and even his stomach. “No touching,” Wangho warns, catching Jinseong’s wrists. “Not here.”

“Let’s go back to my room, then,” Jinseong purrs into his ear. “It’s empty.” 

They get the bill quickly, and Junsik swipes his card while everyone else sends him their share of the bill using phone banking. Junsik volunteers to send the girls back along with Seunghoon. Rambling drunkenly about wanting to drop out of school, Haneul clings on to Jaewan, who sighs and holds him up. 

“I can send Jinseong back to his dorm,” Wangho volunteers. Everyone else agrees, some of the girls giggling at the way Jinseong is already attached to Wangho like a big puppy to a chewable toy.

“Are you staying with him tonight?” Junsik asks when they’re out of earshot. Wangho tries his best to appease him by flashing a smile, but he knows from the way Junsik’s eyebrows furrow for a second that he’s not convinced it’s a good idea. 

They wave to Kanghui and his friend on the way out, exchanging pleasantries and promises to meet up during the holidays.

Clothes reeking of alcohol and eyes slightly lidded, they begin their stroll back to the school dormitories, huddling together when a cold drift passes. With alcohol in their bellies, the breeze feels less cold against their bodies, but it’s still enough to make them shiver a little. All of them squeal when a particularly cold breeze hits them, and they laugh at their sheer silliness of having opted to walk instead of choosing to wait for a cab.

When they reach the vicinity of the dormitories, Wangho and Jinseong part ways with the rest of the group, half of them headed to the girls’ dormitories while Jaewan is tasked with dragging Haneul to his block, which is unfortunately the block that’s the furthest, located all the way at the back of the compound.

Jinseong’s hand is low on Wangho’s waist when they eventually get back to their dormitory building. He pins Wangho against the railing in the lift, offering kitten licks against his lips. 

“We’re still in public,” Wangho protests, hands on Jinseong’s chest to gently push him away. Backing away, Jinseong whines, stumbling out of the lift as soon as the doors open. Wangho dashes after him to offer support, hooking Jinseong’s arm over his shoulder again.

They lock the door behind them and haphazardly fall onto Jinseong’s bed, with Wangho’s head hitting the pillow with a light thump. “I missed you so much,” Jinseong purrs, mouthing at Wangho’s neck. Then, he adds an offhand comment. “I saw you with Sanghyeok-sunbae.”

Stunned, Wangho slowly runs his fingers down the back of Jinseong’s jacket, thinking of an appropriate response. “Yeah, we’ve been hanging out.” 

“Hanging out,” Jinseong echoes in a cynical manner, immediately shrugging off his jacket. He goes back to licking and nipping at Wangho’s neck, the sensation making him whimper. “Hanging out like this?” Jinseong’s hands travel south, clutching at Wangho’s hips, mouth granting harsh sucks to the area just above the waistband of his denim jeans, one hand pushing up the ends of Wangho’s pullover so it pools in a mess on his chest.

Struggling to contain his own gasps, Wangho smooshes the side of his face into the pillow, desperately trying not to make too much noise. His fingers grasp onto the sheets as he feels warm hands gripping at his thighs. “Jinseong, slow down.”

“Did you even miss me?” Jinseong whispers, stopping his ministration to look at him. 

“I did,” Wangho replies, taking advantage of the momentary pause in movement to remove the thin framed glasses from his friend’s face, chucking it safely on the side table next to the bed. “That’s why I’m here with you now.” 

“Right,” Jinseong says. He hums, pressing their lips together, and Wangho can taste the alcohol on his tongue. It’s more rushed, more needy. Hyper-fixated on the hands venturing along his upper body, Wangho gasps a little at the feeling of the cool surface of Jinseong’s ring sliding along his bare torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps on his skin.

At the back of Wangho’s mind, he thinks back to Sanghyeok and the way his hands always feel just right on his body. 

Sucking a bruise against his collar bone, Jinseong bites down softly, seemingly content in just leaving a bunch of proofs along Wangho’s body. Wangho makes a mental note to cover everything up with a shirt with a less revealing neck line, tugging Jinseong’s head up lightly by his hair.

“Hey, I’m tired. We should sleep,” he suggests slowly. His heart clenches, feeling like he’s an absolute cheater even though he technically isn’t dating Sanghyeok. He thinks despondently to himself that maybe he can’t have the best of both worlds without making himself feel guilty.

Compliant, Jinseong rolls over clumsily so they’re now both resting their heads on the pillow. He lets out a hollow laugh. “Good night, love,” he slurs, wrapping himself around Wangho, legs tangling around his. He falls asleep almost immediately, his breaths coming out in an even rhythm.

Wangho doesn’t say it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Click [this](https://twitter.com/emperortwilight) for my Twitter.  
> (2) Those games they played while drinking are actual games I've played myself.   
> (3) Wangho felt conscious because he didn't want to be seen as weak since he didn't drink as much as the other males in the group. None of his friends were judging him, it's just all in his head and he knows it too, but the feeling of being compared to your peers really does show up even in social situations that are supposed to be fun.


	23. Colours of the sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangho wakes up in the morning next to Jinseong after spending the night out at the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to VINXEN’s “Sunset” (feat. OVAN) as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ckZwNVs1c2OxLW7JgRXR3?si=NKcLq-r2SQ-ECkIUsS8-lA)

“Good morning,” Wangho greets, patting the arm around his waist. He gets a noise as a response, a mix of a low growl and a whine. “Let go of me, I need to pee.”

“Hold it in,” Jinseong complains, snuggling closer. “I’m too comfortable to move.”

Wangho sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I’ll pee on you if you don’t let me go.”

“Wow, that’s hot. Just go ahead and pee on me,” Jinseong apparently still has the strength to joke even though his room smells like a dirty club and his head is probably hurting really badly. He rolls away, letting Wangho toddle to the bathroom to relieve himself. 

Wangho casually uses Jinseong’s face wash and grabs a clean face towel from under the sink, brushing his teeth with the toothbrush that he always leaves in Jinseong’s bathroom for times like this. “How’s your head feeling?”

“Amazing,” Jinseong says sarcastically. Wangho lets out an amused snicker, popping open Jinseong’s box of medicine to grab three painkillers out. The cup on the table looks clean enough, and Wangho’s too tired to care about the state of his cleanliness at the moment, so he pours more water into the cup after drinking from it and passes it to Jinseong. 

“I feel like death,” Jinseong says, throwing his head back so he can gulp down the two pills with water. He stumbles around, walking into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door. “Let’s go back to sleep,” he mumbles as he emerges from it a few minutes later, wiping at his face with his towel.

“But I don’t feel like death. I don’t need to go back to sleep,” Wangho points out cheekily. Nevertheless, he slips back into bed, allowing Jinseong to hog more of the blanket. “Thank you for drinking my share of alcohol.” 

“No problem,” Jinseong mumbles, burying his face into the crook of his neck. “Massage my head for me?” 

“So needy,” he teases his friend, but he makes quick work, pushing his fingers down onto Jinseong’s head and neck in a methodical manner. “Who’s needy? You are.” 

Jinseong whines. “I take all the shots for you and this is what I get?”

It’s so cute, the way Jinseong cuddles up to him. “Thank you,” Wangho says sincerely, rubbing at Jinseong’s temples lightly. “You know I’m always grateful to you.”

“I know,” Jinseong replies, his tone turning dark, as if he’s mocking himself. Wangho pretends it doesn’t hurt him just a tiny bit, pretends like they hadn’t almost done other things with each other the night before. He looks up at the ceiling, squinting a little to see the hairline cracks on the corners of the room, some of the paint chipping off and barely hanging on. 

He wonders how long it’ll be till the paint chips fall down.

It’s in the late evening when they finally get out of bed. Wangho examines the splotches on his skin in the bathroom, marks serving as a reminder of everything that happened last night. His black pullover does nothing to hide the marks, the collar hanging wide in a v-shaped manner. He sighs, pulling on Jinseong’s jacket. “I’m taking this,” he announces, adjusting the collar so it’s covering the expanse of his neck.

“Going so soon?” Jinseong asks, wrapping his arms around him, hands on Wangho’s hip bone, applying the slightest pressure. “Maybe we can continue from where we left off.” 

“I should go.” Wangho asserts, swiping away the new message from Sanghyeok away from his notifications bar. There’s something in Jinseong’s eyes, a glint of something, but it disappears just as quickly as it appears. 

“Okay, then. Stay safe, love,” Jinseong tells him, kissing his fingertips softly. Wangho tries to tell himself that he shouldn’t feel guilty for going back and forth with Jinseong, because even Jinseong knows the game himself, but the guilt does settle in his bones, his body feeling heavy and tired.

He jumps into the shower immediately when he gets back, ignoring Junsik’s questioning looks. 

“You slept with Jinseong,” Junsik remarks plainly, twirling his phone in his hand idly as he watches Wangho scrounge through his closet for a clean shirt, his towel hanging low on his waist.

Wangho coughs. “Did not,” he raises his voice. “Not in that way, at least. I slept next to him. With my clothes on.” 

“What are those marks, then?”

“We didn’t sleep together in that way,” Wangho explains. “I stopped him before anything else happened.” He tugs on a shirt and a pair of shorts, staring at the pile of clothes in his dirty hamper that’s beginning to resemble a tiny hill. He really needs to do his laundry soon.

“Then... did you sleep with...” Junsik trails off, one perfect eyebrow raised. 

“No! No,” Wangho shakes his head. “God, this is embarrassing. I didn’t sleep with anyone, okay?” 

Junsik whistles innocently, laying back down on his bed. “So have you told either of them about whether you’re going to date?”

“No,” Wangho says truthfully, vigorously rubbing at his head with his towel. 

“You know, it’s okay to do these physical things if they’re fine with it, but you should really pay attention to their feelings too. They’re not just strangers you can play around with, you know. They’re important people to you, aren’t they?”

“Stop nagging, I don’t want to think about it,” Wangho tries to keep his tone less harsh. “Let’s not talk about this. We should discuss our plans for the holidays.”

That gets Junsik to perk up excitedly. “My parents are expecting you again. My mother has been pestering me about cutting your hair for you.”

Wangho flings his towel across the back of his chair, nearly crashing into Junsik as he hops into the spot next to him on the bed. “Tell her I want to dye my hair back to black.”

“Wow, you do?” Junsik sounds surprised. “You’ve been blond for so long.”

“Time for a change,” Wangho says. “We’re going to your place next week, right? Then you’re staying home for the rest of the holidays?”

“Yeah,” Junsik affirms. “You’re not going home after that?” 

Stretching his arms up, Wangho grunts. “Nope. You know how it is.” 

“No, I don’t know how it is,” Junsik replies, allowing Wangho to lay his head down on his stomach. “Why don’t you ever go home? I bet your mother misses you. I swear you only went home for a week last semester too.” 

Wangho doesn’t know how to tell his roommate that it’s a touchy subject, that he feels like an inadequate child with his half-scholarship and student loans. The fact that he’s in a random course in university that’ll probably grant him a lifelong job of working nine to six at a desk makes things even worse, so he stays silent. 

“Never mind. You can take care of our dorm room as usual while I’m home for the holidays,” Junsik pats his head. “You should reply to your messages. Your phone kept going off while you were in the shower.” 

Signalling the arrival of another message, his phone goes off again. Wangho dives for it, rolling onto his own bed while scrolling through his inbox. He opens Sanghyeok’s messages first, noting the way Sanghyeok hadn’t answered his question from the night before about whether he’s feeling alright. Instead, he’s diverted the conversation away, asking Wangho about how much alcohol he drank. 

It’s not a lie when Wangho says he’s only had a little. 

They spend the night playing League together, the sound of Junsik’s snores transmitting through the voice chat, making Sanghyeok laugh under his breath. “He sounds tired,” Sanghyeok comments. “Huni is sleeping too.” 

“Wow, I’m surprised that he can sleep with how noisily you’re clicking the mouse,” Wangho replies. In response, Sanghyeok gleefully leaves his Elise to die in the hands of the enemy, fast clicks letting Wangho know that his Qiyana is escaping instead. “Fuck, hyung. I had a perfect KDA just now,” he mourns. 

“And now you don’t,” Sanghyeok teases. 

In the morning, the sun rays shine in aggressively through the curtains, making Wangho roll over in discomfort. “It’s so hot,” he grumbles, sitting up to rub at his eyes.

“Good morning. Nice of you to be up before noon,” Junsik says, his headphones hanging around his neck. The grey screen shows that he’s waiting for his death timer to tick down. 

“Playing League without me?” Wangho complains, trudging over to the bathroom. The yell from Junsik sounds suspiciously like an accusation that lately Wangho’s been playing with Sanghyeok too much, so he drowns it out with the sound of the water rushing down from the shower tap.

He lounges on his bed, texting a few friends about his plans for the holidays. 

The familiar excitement in him comes when a message shows up on his screen, asking him to go over for lunch. “Heh, I’m going out for lunch,” he gloats to Junsik, who’s already unwrapping the plastic from two cups of instant noodles. 

“With?” Junsik asks, laying back on his chair, its old wheels squeaking against the floor. 

“Sanghyeok-hyung,” he says happily, already busy changing out of his disgustingly old and sauce-stained pair of shorts and into a presentable pair of sweatpants.

“Sanghyeok-hyung,” Junsik imitates him, exaggerating his tone with a hopelessly-in-love voice. He bursts into laughter when Wangho throws his pair of shorts at him. “Hey! That hurts!” 

Wangho sends a glare to him. “I didn’t say it like that.” He opts to wear slippers, feeling too lazy to wear proper shoes. “Bye, loser. Have fun with your instant noodles while I eat quality food in Sanghyeok-hyung’s room.” 

For a change, Junsik is the one who flips his middle finger up. Wangho flashes a grin and closes the door to the sound of his roommate’s annoyed grumbling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Click [this](https://twitter.com/emperortwilight) for my Twitter. I usually have it on private, so check my ao3 profile on how to get accepted!  
> (2) "He wonders how long it’ll be till the paint chips fall down." It won't take long.  
> (3) I think it's fine to be intimate with people as long as you're of age and you do it in a safe manner. That's just my personal belief, though, so you don't need to agree with it!  
> (4) Next chapter: juicy shit, probably going to break some hearts, but I promise it'll work out in the end.


	24. Could have had it all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s so many words swimming in his head and Wangho can’t pick out the right ones, can’t choose the correct choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Jeremy Zucker’s “orchid” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/05uARZ3gM94zFBg7CvtV7y?si=Z-i385lxTKmyHTqjWW75ng)

Recently, it’s become a natural occurrence for Wangho to be next to someone in bed. Not that it should be like this, but somehow it makes Wangho feel like he’s so safe when he’s in someone’s arms.

Laying next to Sanghyeok, Wangho holds up his phone, an anime showing on the screen. It’s one of those romance anime that Wangho has a liking for, but Sanghyeok has the habit of making snarky and snide comments whenever one of the characters make a bad decision, which never fails to make Wangho laugh. 

“Look at him being a coward,” Sanghyeok mutters under his breath. “Just give the love letter to her already.”

“Hyung! Stop,” Wangho complains, trying to stifle his own giggles. “It’s not that easy. Look, she’s the most popular girl at school.”

It feels comfortable, just laying in bed, with Sanghyeok’s soft breaths against his neck. There’s a yell from one of the other rooms, followed by the sound of laughter, but they remain undisturbed for the most part. The atmosphere is calm and soothing and Wangho likes it best when he’s at ease like this. 

“What are you thinking of?” Sanghyeok asks, laying one hand on his hip. His other arm is trapped under Wangho, and Wangho’s sure that he’s going to be complaining later on that his blood circulation has been affected. 

“Nothing,” Wangho says, then stops the video on his phone, deep in thought. He turns, looking at Sanghyeok face to face, unsure of how to word his question. “Hyung, why didn’t you want to come with us to the party?” 

Pausing, Sanghyeok takes some time to answer. “It’s not really my thing,” he begins. “Partying. People are going to be there.”

“You’ve been to the club before,” Wangho points out. “You know, when I got drunk.”

“Kanghui invited you, right?” Sanghyeok replies, and then remains silent, pursing his lips. “Forget it. It’s already over, anyway.”

Wangho thinks back, and it suddenly hits him that maybe Sanghyeok didn’t want to be a damper and scare people by showing up. With all the time he’s spent with Sanghyeok, he’s grown somewhat accustomed to their fellow students avoiding him whenever Sanghyeok’s around him. Recalling the way even Kanghui had been frightened at the sight of Sanghyeok waiting for him after class, Wangho feels sick to his stomach. 

“Fuck,” he curses, the realisation hitting him. “I should have stayed with you instead. I kept checking my phone to see if you would send me a text, and you didn’t, so I thought you fell asleep.”

“It’s okay,” Sanghyeok’s tone indicates otherwise, but Wangho’s a little helpless when it comes to Sanghyeok being stubborn. There’s many things Sanghyeok still refuses to talk about, even if it feels like they’ve known each other for ages and are past the stage of hiding away secrets.

“It’s not,” Wangho disagrees, chewing on his own lip. “I’ll make sure all my friends know you only did what you did to those guys to protect Seunghoon-hyung.” 

“You don’t have to. People will forget about it over the holidays,” Sanghyeok says. “There’s never been a rumour that’s lasted in our school for more than a semester, anyway.” 

“Still,” Wangho insists. “Tell me these things next time. Don’t keep it to yourself.” 

Sanghyeok kisses him, and Wangho thinks to himself that maybe it’s to get him to shut up. Smiling, he responds back enthusiastically, gripping onto Sanghyeok’s white shirt. He thinks fondly of the way Sanghyeok never seems to run out of white shirts, giggling into the kiss lightly.

“Why are you laughing,” Sanghyeok asks, their breaths mingling.

“I’m laughing at you and your dumb white shirts,” Wangho whispers affectionately, tenderly nibbling on Sanghyeok’s lower lip. 

Sanghyeok’s hand finds its place on the back of Wangho’s neck as always, gently rubbing swirls across his skin, sending pleasing tingles down his body. 

Time seems to pass so quickly whenever they’re together, Wangho notes, momentarily pulling away to glance at the clock on the wall. Not that he particularly minds. It’s time well spent, as long as he has Sanghyeok whispering softly to him, like he’s something to be cherished and loved.

Sanghyeok’s eyes seem to focus on his neck when they stop, and Wangho positively panics after realising what exactly he’s looking at, hurriedly rolling over to hide the front of his neck from view. His heart is beating fast in his chest, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. 

The other boy sits up abruptly, pulling at his sleeve. “Let me see your neck,” he says, his voice strangely calm. 

“No,” Wangho resists, sitting up as well, adjusting his shirt quickly. Recoiling, he defensively covers his neck with his hand, even though he’s sure that his shirt is already back in place.

Silently, Sanghyeok bats his hand away, tugging Wangho’s hand away with more force than expected, although it surprisingly doesn’t really hurt at all. Stretching down the edge of his collar to expose the bruises Wangho clearly knows are littered across his skin, it takes a moment for the reality to sink in. 

“You have kiss marks on your neck.”

“Hyung, it’s nothing,” he replies quickly, lightly pushing away the probing hands. It’s all coming out wrong, his words and his actions, but Wangho feels like he’s acting on autopilot mode, unable to control what happens next.

“I didn’t give you these marks.” Sanghyeok presses on, the pads of his fingers ghosting across purple blue bruises. There’s a hint of upset in his voice, cleverly masked with a layer of calmness. “Who gave you these?” His fingers are trembling slightly, but his face is still expressionless.

“It’s Jinseong,” Wangho eventually answers. The room is too silent, the oppressive feeling weighing down on the atmosphere. He hates that he can’t figure out what Sanghyeok’s thinking, struggling to decipher the blank look on the older boy’s face. 

Meekly, he reaches out a hand to paw at Sanghyeok’s wrist lightly. “Hyung?”

Sanghyeok stares at him for a moment, but his eyes are unfocused, like he’s lost in the depths of his own mind. He shrugs Wangho’s hand away, moving away from him. “I said I’d wait for you,” he eventually breaks the silence. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t hurt too.”

“Hyung, listen to me, I didn’t do anything with Jinseong,” Wangho desperately tries to explain. Sanghyeok brushes his hand away again, simultaneously making Wangho’s heart feel like it’s been dropped into an ocean. 

The older boy takes a deep breath and turns his head away, hugging his knees as he curls into a ball to make himself as small as possible. “You should go, Wangho. I can’t do this anymore.”

Tears threaten to fall from Wangho’s eyes. He tries to blink them away, his vision blurry. This isn’t what he planned for, everything going so stupidly wrong. “Hyung, please. I didn’t do anything. Really. We didn’t do anything like that. I just slept over in his room because he drank too much.” He feels sick to his stomach, the guilt pressing down and threatening to crush him.

“Go,” Sanghyeok says, voice muffled. “Come find me only when you’ve made up your mind. I can’t do this to myself, Wangho. It hurts.” He doesn’t look up, doesn’t look at Wangho, just tucks himself up against his pillow like a tiny animal protecting itself from danger. The way Sanghyeok flinches when Wangho touches his arm absolutely burns, like there’s no air left in his lungs.

“I’m sorry,” Wangho mumbles. 

“It’s okay,” Sanghyeok says again, like it’s a mantra in his head, as though it’ll be real if he repeats it enough times. His voice sounds a lot heavier than it did all the other times he said it, less sure, less bright, more resigned.

It hurts, that Sanghyeok can’t even bear to look at him now, as if he’s the biggest scum in the universe. 

There’s so many words swimming in his head and Wangho can’t pick out the right ones, can’t choose the correct choices. He stands up and walks away, looking back for the last time to see Sanghyeok sitting motionless, his head buried in his own arms.

When he gets back to his room, Wangho stares at the cracks on his wall, all noticeable and prominent. He cries softly under his blanket, pretending to be asleep.

It’s all his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click [this](https://twitter.com/emperortwilight) for my Twitter. I have it on private. Please put a star emoji on your bio for a while till you get accepted, so I know you’re an All Stars reader!


	25. It will never work out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have to end one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Jeremy Zucker’s “end” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/3XaZ4zJnU3SbYFj6PhI8Y7?si=-yLkcLs9RsuPka7ywLRjdg)

At Junsik’s house, he broods over his matters for the first three days, having a lot of time to think things through. On the fourth day, he gets his hair dyed back to black, becoming strangely unable to recognise himself in the mirror or through the reflection of the glass windows at the shops. 

The redeeming thing is that Wangho’s trying to figure his own life out, not just fixated only on his love issues. It’s a scary thing, applying for internships, trying to fluff up his resume, but Wangho forces himself to send out multiple applications because it’s better to try out every available opportunity than sit around. 

There's just some things that won't get fixed, no matter how much Wangho wants to fix it. He calls his mother and speaks to her, but he doesn't say anything important. His heart feels strange when he gives the empty promise that he'll visit soon, and when he ends the call an hour later, he mulls over the conversation and hides under the blanket on Junsik's bed. 

Other things don't get fixed, no matter how much Wangho wants to fix it, because life is not always smooth-sailing, and he knows he'll never feel good enough no matter what he does. Some would call it ‘giving up’. Wangho calls it ‘gradual acceptance’, just so his confidence doesn’t take too many hits at once. 

His phone is surprisingly quiet. Whenever he’s free, he stares listlessly at his phone inbox, waiting and hoping. His last message to Sanghyeok has been opened and read, with the lack of reply making him feel even guiltier. 

He throws his phone to the side, watching it bounce off the mattress slightly. Junsik enters the room, gently kicking at him. He rolls over, leaving Junsik his fair share of the bed — although, technically speaking, there’s no shares and Junsik owns the whole space. 

“Stop overthinking,” Junsik chides, pulling out his own phone to text another one of his many friends. Covering his own eyes with the back of his hand, Wangho tries to clear his head so he can go to sleep. He only cracks open an eye when Junsik lets out a short sigh.

“What?” Wangho asks. 

“You know, the two of you should really work on your communication,” Junsik comments as he switches off the night light.

Wangho frowns hard. “Who?” 

“You know who. Seunghoon’s pretty worried about him,” Junsik replies, sounding absolutely tired of the whole situation. “You both suck. When you go back to school, find him and apologise to him, got it? It’s awkward for us too. We can’t talk freely in the group chat.”

It’s not that easy, Wangho wants to say. He grunts, turning around to face the wall instead. “Good night,” he mutters, but at least his heart is set and he has an inkling of what to do. If he plays his cards right, he can still fix things, and maybe he’ll still get his happily ever after, whatever the hell it is. 

Reaching his dormitory room in the late evening the next day, Wangho chucks his bag to the side, feeling too lazy to unpack.

He manages to send a thank you message to Junsik’s mother privately, telling her how grateful he is that they’re always so welcoming towards him. The feeling he got when she had hugged him had nearly made him choke up, tears threatening to well up in his eyes. 

Looking at his phone for what felt like the hundredth time, he chews on his lip, sending a text message to Jinseong. The reply is quick, and he puts on his slippers and locks the door behind him. 

The school is much more empty than he had expected, several students having gone back to their homes for the holidays. The security guard waves at him as usual, offering a grin in response when Wangho pushes out a sunny smile of his own. The sun is setting, the sky a shade of orange and pink with the moon beginning to peek out behind the clouds. 

“Hey,” he greets hesitantly, sitting next to Jinseong. His slippers make an ugly sound against the steps of the bleachers. The yellow lights are all on, casting a strangely eerie glow on the field.

“Hey. You look good,” Jinseong marvels, hovering over him, picking up a lock of his hair to examine it. “Black hair suits you.” He smells like the cheap body wash and shampoo set that’s always on sale at the minimart near their dormitories, because Jinseong seems to be the only one who can pull off that kind of scent while still appearing to be attractive.

Wangho takes a deep breath, trying to calm the beating of his heart — he’s not ready to say things, and maybe he’ll never be. He stalls, shifting his weight over to rest on his right hand, leaning away from Jinseong. “Thanks. You have soccer practice even during the holidays?”

“Yeah. That shit’s killing me. I’m tired,” Jinseong rests his head against Wangho’s shoulder. It’s supposed to be a cute gesture, but all Wangho feels is guilt. He pats Jinseong’s head with his left hand, running his fingers through slightly damp hair.

While staying over at Junsik’s house, Junsik’s mother had asked Wangho if he had someone special in his life. He had said no, explaining that he doesn’t really know what love feels like, that he doesn’t understand the whole concept of it. She had laughed and dished out more bean stew for him, telling him that he’ll know what it is when he’s spending time with people and the only thing on his mind is wanting to go home to that one special person.

Maybe Junsik had vaguely hinted to his mother about Wangho’s tumultuous love life.

“Hang out next week?” Jinseong’s hopeful voice makes Wangho flinch a little, only because the realisation hits him that he’s really been stringing his best friend along for no reason. Jinseong’s sincere and funny and noisy, and he’s everything half the school worships because he’s just that amazing of a person. Jinseong seems to be everything a person could possibly want in a partner.

Yet — it’s not Jinseong who’s been on his mind. It’s not Jinseong he’s been brooding over and frantically checking his phone for. 

Maybe he had liked Jinseong at some point, and maybe if things hadn’t turned out this way, they could have gotten together, even. Jinseong’s only ever been nice to him, his happy-go-lucky demeanour infectious to boot, with a surprising amount of sensibility and mindfulness that not many tend to expect. There’s many things Wangho is grateful to his friend for, but there’s no use in pretending he’s in love when he’s not.

“So,” he abruptly says, catching his friend’s attention. Jinseong perks up, eyes trained on him. “I called you out here to tell you something.”

“What?” Jinseong asks, staring at him intently, as if he’s already fast forwarded and heard what Wangho wants to say. Wangho wipes his sweaty palms against his pants, his heart beating rapidly. There’s a few of Jinseong’s soccer teammates still on the field, boisterously yelling at each other playfully. 

He pauses, pondering over the right words to use. “We can’t...” he trails off, doing his best to formulate an appropriate sentence, feeling strangely out of place. Toying with his phone, he anxiously switches the screen on and off repeatedly. Jinseong stirs restlessly, watching. 

Wangho’s stomach threatens to lurch up the contents of his lunch, so he takes in another breath, the summer air entering his lungs. “Let’s stay as friends,” he rushes out, watching for signs of upset on his friend’s face.

The expression on Jinseong’s face feels like a punch to Wangho’s gut. Even as he sits next to him, the disappointment is palpable, radiating off in waves. 

But it doesn’t hurt Wangho to say it; it doesn’t hurt like the way it had hurt him when Sanghyeok had refused to even take a glance at him. It’s a feeling of letdown and guilt and repentance all mashed into a gigantic mix, but it’s not the same hurt.

Letting out a thin smile, eyes slightly watery, Jinseong traces the curve of Wangho’s jaw with a finger. “Okay,” he says. 

"Okay," Wangho echoes in reply. They sit in silence, and for once in Wangho's life, he feels awkward seated next to Jinseong. 

“But I’m always your best friend, right?” 

“Always,” Wangho promises hurriedly. He dares not to say anything else, waiting for Jinseong to lead the conversation. 

His friend lets out a strangled laugh. “I deserve better. I can’t believe I liked you for over a year,” he jokes. Relief floods into Wangho's system at the lighthearted response. 

“You’ll find someone better than me. Wow, you really dodged a bullet, huh? You could have gotten stuck with someone like me.” 

Jinseong lets out a tired sigh and pats Wangho’s shoulder. “I should go now.” For tradition's sake, he loops his arm around Wangho, pressing his nose against his neck. "I'll see you soon," he mutters. "Soon."

“Soon,” Wangho repeats after him again, curling his arms around with the usual difficulty he has, because Jinseong towers over him like an overgrown puppy. 

Jinseong is the one to break away from the hug, wiggling out of his embrace. “Bye,” he says. 

Wangho watches as Jinseong walks away, his back curled in to make his stature appear smaller than it really is. 

It’s like a gigantic boulder has been lifted off his chest, and for once, Wangho feels like he’s done the right thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Click [this](https://twitter.com/emperortwilight) for my Twitter. I have it on private. Please put a star emoji on your bio for a while till you get accepted, so I know you’re an All Stars reader! And please, if you’re reading my stories on ao3 I’m going to hope you’re above 18. There’s the M rating for a reason.  
> (2) Dyeing your hair every time you make a life decision? Same.  
> (3) I think you all expected this. I had so much difficulty writing this chapter out. There’s something so tragic about liking your best friend — and things don’t always end well — but I think this is a decent way of rejecting someone.   
> (4) I’ve actually hinted about Wangho thinking about Sanghyeok even while he’s with Jinseong (see: chapter 17 and 22). I tried my best to show it gradually, to make sure things aren’t super abrupt, although I’m pretty sure it still is. I tried, though. Can’t say I didn’t.


	26. Ocean eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you’re scared, take a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Jeremy Zucker’s “scared” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/6r2JV75tE0vNgNCv4HKsBC?si=CyvHJ09GR5upEnW-NRBQZA)

Wangho knows he’s supposed to have fun during the holidays, but he feels extra terrible now that he can't even contact Jinseong. All these events snowball into a gigantic mass of bad feelings, resulting in him spending most of his time playing League and pretending that he’s completely fine with the way things are now. His email inbox is still hopelessly empty, and so is his message log with Sanghyeok.

Junsik comes back onto campus a few weeks earlier than he had initially planned, sending bullets of guilt into Wangho’s soul at the thought of making his roommate worry about him. Even though Junsik had insisted that he was bored staying with his parents, Wangho knows that is not the case at all.

On a particular Friday, Wangho rejects every single dinner invitation in his inbox and watches as Junsik admires his clothing choices in the mirror. It has been a while since Junsik has been out on a date, even though he’s immensely popular in school. He likes to use the excuse that he’s too busy most of the time. In Wangho’s head, that excuse sounds more like a cover up for the fact that half of Junsik’s waking hours are spent babysitting him. 

Regardless, he’s determined not to ruin his roommate’s date night, so he bites his tongue and doesn’t breathe a word about staying in the dormitory alone. He gives the excuse that he’s going to get ready later, currently feeling too lazy to get out of bed.

His stomach growls as he stays under his blanket, but he's too sad to even bother moving a muscle. It's one of those days where nothing is worth doing, and even League feels boring. The restlessness escalates, making him sigh. 

His phone buzzes, signalling a new message. Swiftly, Wangho picks it up and looks at his inbox, only to discover that it’s his roommate asking him why he isn’t out of the dormitory. Furrowing his eyebrows, his fingers hover over the keyboard, about to make a lie, but a second message comes, Junsik chiding him for not disclosing that he’s actually in the dormitory and not out with his other friends who had also opted to stay in the dormitories for the holidays. 

Another message arrives. ‘I’m coming back. Open the door for me. My hands are full.’

Wangho leaves the door ajar, immediately clambering back into bed to simmer under his blanket. The room is stuffy, but he can’t bring himself to bother about it right now. Nothing seems to be working well for him today. 

Junsik is holding a big bag when he returns, locking the door behind him. “Get out from under there, you’re going to burn and die,” he instructs, switching on the air conditioning. “Geez, I leave you alone for two hours and you’re already like this?”

“Why did you come back so early,” Wangho mutters, unwilling to budge. He feels the outline of a hand poking at his side persistently. “Didn’t you enjoy the date?”

“I can’t enjoy anything if I know you’re here being all mopey and gloomy instead of being out with your friends like you told me you would be,” Junsik scolds him, dragging the blanket away and tugging him out of bed. “I met Kanghui and his friend on the way, and he told me you refused to meet anyone for dinner. I bought you chicken. Eat it.” He dumps the bag in front of Wangho.

The smell alone is enough to make Wangho’s mouth water. He digs in quickly, gulping down the can of soda as well.

It doesn’t take long for him to scarf down all the food, dropping the bones back into the container. “Thank you,” he mumbles as Junsik forces him to wipe his hands clean with a wet wipe and ties up the plastic bag, leaving it at the door. 

“Talk now,” Junsik commands. “I gave you food. In exchange, you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he easily lies, but Junsik rolls his eyes. 

Wangho shakes his head, stubbornly refusing, but Junsik sighs and pulls him up onto his bed, bundling him up in his blanket. “Tell me. I’m not stupid, Wangho. I know something’s wrong.”

“I rejected Jinseong,” Wangho admits, voice muffled by the blanket. 

Junsik blinks once, then twice, as if processing what he just said. “Oh,” he says. “That was quick. That’s good, isn’t it? Jinseong can get some time away from you till school starts again, and you stopped dragging out this whole stuck-in-between-two-people thing you had going on.”

“Yeah,” Wangho agrees slowly. 

“You did well,” Junsik praises, patting his back lightly. “Now, what else is bothering you?”

“Sanghyeok-hyung,” he whispers, and Junsik hums in understanding, gesturing for him to continue. “I tried texting him, but he didn’t reply me at all. I think he hates me now,” his ears feel hot, the embarrassment burning at the back of his head. 

His roommate purses his lips, mulling over things. “He doesn’t hate you,” he explains. “At least, I don’t think he ever could. He always looks at you like you’ve strung the stars in the sky,” he jokes sarcastically, keeping his tone light. Wangho glowers at him, sending him an annoyed glare. “Really, Wangho. Just call him and ask him to meet up with you. You want to enjoy the holidays, don’t you? This is the time for you to rest after the long semester. And I’m sure he feels equally crappy about this whole thing. You should fix things.”

“Right,” Wangho replies, letting Junsik’s words sink in. 

“Call him now,” he suggests. “If he’s been ignoring your texts, you should at least try to call him once or twice. You need to make the effort to let him know that you’re sincere about wanting to meet him to sort things out. And if he doesn’t want to talk to you, he’ll definitely tell you or at least block your number after this.” 

With shaky hands, Wangho grips onto his phone, scrolling through his contacts list. He pauses when he reaches Sanghyeok’s name, fingers trembling. Junsik helpfully presses the call button for him, guiding his hand to bring the phone up to his ear. 

The line rings for a long time, and Wangho’s heart sinks down when he thinks about Sanghyeok deliberately leaving his phone ringing, ignoring it in favour of doing something better with his time. Just as he’s about to pull his phone away to end the call, the line picks up. 

“Hyung?” Wangho’s voice falters. Looking at his roommate for support, he takes a deep breath. “Can we meet up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/emperortwilight)  
> Please put a star emoji in your bio till you get accepted! If you’re below 18, please do not follow.
> 
> Three more chapters and All Stars will be complete!


	27. Daydreams, take all you need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pull down the stars, collect it one by one.   
> Wangho can't keep Sanghyeok out of his mind, but maybe he doesn't have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to birthday's “October” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/4RBvdFV0tqaL7xlXk5R7hT?si=63s7-5q3Q8GSADgYqtWj8A)

His phone buzzes, its alarm tone shrill and piercing. Wangho wakes up instantly this time, throwing on decent-looking clothes after showering and making sure to style his hair nicely. Junsik is fast asleep, tucked securely in his blanket.

He goes to find Sanghyeok, leaving his dormitory room earlier than he had planned. It’s their first meeting in a long while, and while Sanghyeok is notoriously known for being late to many things, Wangho doesn’t want to risk being later than him and looking insincere. He quells his anxiety as he walks to the courtyard, curling his thumb in to press it against his index finger the way Sanghyeok does sometimes.

“Hi, hyung,” Wangho’s heart threatens to leap when he walks closer, stopping just in front of Sanghyeok’s favourite bench. It’s like déja vu, Sanghyeok looking up at him the exact same way he had the first time they met, beckoning him over. 

“Hi,” Sanghyeok greets frostily, shutting his book. “What did you want to see me for?” Wangho joins him on the bench, deliberately sitting nearer than needed.

Attempting to get Sanghyeok to warm up to him, Wangho calculatedly places his hand on Sanghyeok’s knee. “I missed you, hyung,” he admits, averting his gaze, staring down at the watch on his own wrist. There’s something in the way Sanghyeok looks at him coldly, like he’s a stranger and they weren’t friends or even more just a few weeks ago.

“And?” Sanghyeok asks, staring. 

“I’m sorry,” Wangho admits truthfully. “I’m really sorry, hyung. For hurting you all the time. It’s okay if you’re still mad at me. I don’t expect you to forgive me either. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.” He takes a deep breath, lightly nibbling on his own bottom lip anxiously, surveying Sanghyeok’s face for any sign of a reaction.

Sanghyeok doesn’t let any emotions slip through the cracks; his gaze is piercing. “Anything else?” 

The wind is still, the sun shining brightly. Save for the two of them, the area is empty. Wangho gathers his courage and places it on the tip of his tongue. “I have something else to tell you.”

“What?”

“If you still want me,” Wangho mumbles hesitantly. “I’d like to date you.”

“Why now?” Sanghyeok asks, eyes trained on him, watching. It’s nothing Wangho’s ever expected, and it brings him back to the icy look Sanghyeok had when they first met, obsidian eyes lonely and searching, as if he was finding something, trying to reach for someone, anyone, out in the open sea. 

“Because... I like you, hyung.” 

He nervously chews on his lip as more than a few seconds pass, Sanghyeok remaining silent throughout. His heart is uneasy, like he’s on a boat and the waves are turbulent and choppy, the back of his neck beginning to perspire a little.

Sanghyeok bats away his hand, looking offended. “You said that to me last time, too. Why do you always say that?” 

“Because it’s true,” Wangho replies softly, feeling more hurt than he had expected at the way Sanghyeok seems to be unwelcoming towards him. He had predicted the high possibility of Sanghyeok being upset, and yet, no amount of mental preparation could have gotten him ready for this. He can feel his palms getting sweaty, so he pats it on the side of his jeans.

“Well, I don’t want to date you,” the older male says crossly, folding his arms. Wangho’s heart sinks, and he struggles to keep the tears from falling. The silence is deafening, and it feels like all eyes are on him when there's no one else in the courtyard. 

“Okay,” he finally replies. There’s no way to force Sanghyeok to like him back. Maybe he had missed the prime time, along with any chance to still remain friends. He looks up at Sanghyeok’s face for the last time, and thinks, I love you, and I’m sorry. 

He stands up to walk, but a hand clamps down on his wrist, pulling him back. “Don’t go yet,” Sanghyeok calls out, dragging him back down.

“What,” Wangho bursts out, feeling slightly humiliated. “I know I hurt you. I know that. I’m sorry, hyung. You don’t even want me now. You don’t have to pity me. I’ll be fine,” he half-yells, frustrated that all his words are coming out wrong again. 

“I didn’t finish saying what I want to say,” Sanghyeok’s voice is oddly calm. His fingers are warm against Wangho’s skin. “Sit down and listen. God, you’re so fiery.”

Curbing his mortification, Wangho bites his tongue and struggles to hold himself together.

Letting the emotions between them stew a little, Sanghyeok takes a deep breath, then opens his mouth to speak. “I don’t want to just date you,” he begins, pausing a little. “I want a label on our relationship.” 

Wangho’s heart skips, and he looks up again, harshly swiping away the stray tear that he feels rolling down his cheek. 

Sanghyeok’s hand is warm against his own as he continues. “I want to be your boyfriend. I don’t want something momentary.”

“You — you’re so mean,” Wangho opens his mouth, but all the feelings are caught at his throat. He starts bawling a little too angrily, sobbing in the middle of the courtyard, and Sanghyeok gently brings him closer, patting his head softly. 

“Don't cry. I'm sorry I made you cry,” Sanghyeok whispers. 

Wangho huffs in between the tears. “Is this your revenge for all the times I made you upset?” He sniffles, punching Sanghyeok in the chest with a curled fist. “You’re so fucking mean, hyung.”

“I guess we’re even now. No more making each other cry,” Sanghyeok lays a peck on the crown of his head, tilting his head up so he can wipe away the beads of tears from his cheeks. “So, we’re boyfriends now?”

“Okay. No more making each other cry,” Wangho scrubs away the last of his own tears with his sleeve. He feels safe and secure. He looks up at Sanghyeok, maintaining eye contact. Mine, he thinks. It’s still slightly unbelievable that they’re together. “Hi, mister boyfriend,” he jokes. 

Sanghyeok only smirks slightly, running his fingers through Wangho’s black hair. “Nice hair, by the way. You look good.” 

Wangho hums happily, leaning in to get lost in the compliment and the silky smooth strokes against his head, resting his forehead against Sanghyeok’s chest. He trembles slightly, fingers clutching onto the hem of Sanghyeok’s shirt as he breathes.

This is really everything Wangho knows he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Click [this](https://twitter.com/emperortwilight) for my Twitter. I have it on private. Please put a star emoji on your bio for a while till you get accepted, so I know you’re an All Stars reader!
> 
> (2) Do! You! All! Like! This! Chapter! Because! I! Do!


	28. Anywhere, anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dust settles, and what’s left is everything Wangho can live with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Lauv’s “Paris in the Rain” as you read this chapter: [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/41CgzGD7xlgnJe14R4cqkL?si=tRpQZrLhSmmeu5b3PIHMdA)

In the blink of an eye, the holidays pass, and the school is bustling again.

“What’s up with you two?” Seunghoon stares distrustfully, gaze flitting back and forth between them. He turns to Jaewan, squinting. “They’re acting strange, aren’t they?”

Wangho widens his eyes, putting on his most innocent face. “What? All I did was sit down and hand Sanghyeok-hyung his drink. Eat your food, hyung.”

Jaewan rubs his chin, now scrutinising them. “Why are you seated so close?”

“We have three people on this side of the table,” Sanghyeok grumbles. “What, do you want to squeeze with two people instead? I can shift over.” He pokes at his rice, taking small bites.

“Yes, please go over so I have more space,” Junsik gripes, prodding at Sanghyeok with his elbow just as Seunghoon shakes his head. Since Junsik is in on their secret, it doesn’t take him much effort to play along, making sure that Wangho isn’t overwhelmed by the amount of suspicion by Seunghoon and Jaewan. Grateful for his roommate’s thoughtfulness, Wangho slides his drink over to him after clicking open the tab, letting him take a big gulp.

They mindlessly chatter about their classes, discussing about new professors and classmates. Across the cafeteria, Jinseong offers them a wave, his blond hair making him recognisable even though Wangho isn’t wearing his glasses. From his squinting, Wangho can see Sangho seated next to him, laughing about something.

Sanghyeok freezes for a split second, and then quietly, he brings up a hand and waves in return, simultaneously sending Wangho’s heart tumbling down at the surge of endearing charms displayed by his boyfriend. Offering some comfort and reassurance, Wangho taps Sanghyeok’s foot lightly with his own, receiving the tiniest of smiles in reply.

Wangho, Jaewan and Seunghoon all have lectures at three, so the group disperses, Sanghyeok insisting on walking him to his lecture hall. Junsik sends the two of them a look of exasperation at how obviously close they’re being, but trudges away with an arm around Seunghoon’s shoulders.

“You’re so nice to me these days,” Wangho comments. Just to refute that statement, Sanghyeok drops his heavy textbook into Wangho’s arms, telling him to carry it instead. Rolling his eyes, Wangho hugs the book, but Sanghyeok immediately fishes it away after a solid minute.

“Are you doubting my muscles?” Wangho playfully challenges. “I’ve been trying to work out recently. I’m probably stronger than you.”

Sanghyeok laughs under his breath. “I never said or implied anything. It’s all in your head.” he grins cheekily.

“Are you sure,” Wangho narrows his eyes into a tiny glare, pouting a little.

“Maybe you’re just feeling guilty about all the late night snacks you’ve been having instead of trying to live a healthy lifestyle,” Sanghyeok jokes, poking a finger against Wangho’s side.

“You’re so mean. You’re the one who keeps sending food over,” Wangho whines, bumping their shoulders together.

“Not that it matters how much you eat or how little you exercise,” Sanghyeok teases further. “I like you regardless. Unless you’re eating instant noodles all day and eating too much salt. You’re already salty enough as is.”

In retaliation, Wangho punches his stomach lightly, smiling in satisfaction when Sanghyeok nearly drops his book from the rude shock. “You’re such a brat,” Sanghyeok complains, but pats his head as an act of reconciliation.

They walk down the hallway, and Sanghyeok’s right — no one seems to care that they’re walking together. He’s not with the Demon King; he’s with Sanghyeok, and no one seems to care enough to gossip around them.

“I’ll pick you up after class,” Sanghyeok says in a low voice, which again makes Wangho’s heart go all twisted and soft. Sanghyeok’s been trying so hard to keep their relationship a secret simply because Wangho’s afraid to come out of the closet. “See, I’m doing my boyfriend duties right. I’m good, aren’t I?”

Wangho can’t resist letting out a smile of his own. “Almost perfect, even. If only you would stop showing up late for our morning dates,” he quips, but his gaze softens. “See you later.” He enters the lecture hall, finding a nice seat in the middle of the hall, sitting at the end of the row. Kanghui dashes in a minute before the lecture time, clumsily claiming the seat next to his.

“Fancy seeing you in this lecture too, hyung,” Kanghui greets amicably, huffing a little as he tries to catch his breath. “Where’s your friend?”

“Jinseong and I have opposing schedules. He got assigned to the other lecture timing,” Wangho grumbles. “Guess I’m stuck with you,” he teases.

“Ready to save my grades this term for me?” Kanghui asks dramatically, switching on his laptop to take notes. “I’m counting on you.”

Wangho flicks his hand away from his arm, raising an eyebrow. “It’s only the first week of school. You need to at least work hard until the middle of the semester before asking me to save your grades,” he banters.

As promised, Sanghyeok’s waiting for him at the doorway after the lecture. A few people glance at him warily as they move past him to exit, but none of them spare him any extra attention. Kanghui even bows politely, offering a smile on his way out, which pleasantly surprises Wangho.

They don’t go anywhere special, opting to eat at the school cafeteria, but it’s comfortable companionship and everything Wangho likes.

After dinner, they head to the library, Wangho obediently pulling out his notes to study. Sanghyeok’s a good influence on him, he realises as he tries his best to process the words on his screen. Leaning against him, Sanghyeok is reading from a textbook, eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration.

When they get back to Wangho’s dormitory at ten in the evening, Sanghyeok plants a quick peck on his forehead, making sure to check that no one is around in the hallway. Wangho leans up, reciprocating with a short kiss, savouring the warmth on his lips. Truly mine, and only mine, he thinks, as something blooms in his chest when Sanghyeok presses back eagerly.

They eventually separate. Reluctantly, Wangho waves goodbye, watching as Sanghyeok disappears from his view as he closes the door.

Before drifting off into sleep, Wangho thanks Junsik softly for always being there for him. Junsik grumbles under his breath about bratty younger roommates and the problems they bring, but he gives Wangho a quick hug before ambling back to his own bed.

Things seem to settle. Life isn’t always smooth, but if it’s like this, Wangho can live with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click [this](https://twitter.com/emperortwilight) for my Twitter. I have it on private. Please put a star emoji on your twitter bio for a while till you get accepted, so I know you’re an All Stars reader! 
> 
> Junsik is the only one who knows that Sanghyeok and Wangho are dating! Wangho told him about it. Seunghoon and Jaewan don’t know about it for sure, but they do have their suspicions.
> 
> Final chapter will be posted on 30 June 2020 ⭐️


	29. Life would be quite boring without you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s nothing like being in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the final time, here’s my recommendation:[Jeremy Zucker’s “we’re fucked, it’s fine”](https://open.spotify.com/track/197q11KRzEvsoHoW8U3bL8?si=dkiLohhKSea3qz9WljFx2w)
> 
> I think the song isn’t supposed to be a happy one, but I interpreted it to be a “we’re both pieces of shit, but at least we have each other” kind of love. Which is fine, as long as all parties in the relationship know their limits and what lines shouldn’t be crossed. And of course, music can be interpreted in many ways, so I hope my explanation makes some sense!

Wangho bursts into the room, dropping onto his boyfriend’s lap. “Hold me,” he demands, hearing his boyfriend chuckle softly as he winds his arms around Wangho’s waist. The chair rolls back a little, Sanghyeok wheeling them away from the study table till the chair hits the foot of his bed.

He’s never been the kind to be openly affectionate, but somehow Sanghyeok makes him feel all kinds of ways, compelling him to show his love in every possible manner. Usually, even when he’s with close friends like Junsik, he only manages a hug or to link arms, but it’s always different with Sanghyeok.

“You’re being needy today. That’s strange,” Sanghyeok comments, but he hugs tighter, pressing his chest against Wangho’s back, the steady thrum of his heartbeat a comforting rhythm. “Why?”

“No reason,” Wangho mumbles, twisting his waist slightly, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position, seated sideways so he can sling his right hand on the back of Sanghyeok’s neck and place his left hand right against Sanghyeok’s chest. “I just missed you while I was in class.”

“How cute.”

“I am,” he agrees cheekily, the soft press of lips against his forehead telling him there’s no disagreement there. He’s pretty sure he looks silly seated on Sanghyeok’s lap, and Seunghoon could enter the room at any time and find them in such a compromising position, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

Sanghyeok places light pecks on his cheeks and his forehead, and Wangho shuts his eyes, basking in the attention. “You’re here now,” Sanghyeok says, gaze soft and wanting.

“I’m here now,” Wangho laughs, and he sighs happily when they kiss, clinging onto the edge of Sanghyeok’s collar.

“How was your day?” Sanghyeok asks in between kisses.

“Good,” Wangho replies. “Yours?”

“Good too, now that you’re here.”

Wangho smiles at his response, nuzzling against Sanghyeok’s jaw, tracing the smooth planes of his boyfriend’s pale skin at his throat. It’s days like this that Wangho feels weightless, like he can take on anything and everything. The weather outside is surprisingly good, the sound of birds chirping away loud and clear in the afternoon sun.

“Bed?” Sanghyeok finally suggests as Wangho shifts in his lap again, trying to find the best posture to sit in.

“Bed,” Wangho agrees, about to stand up, but Sanghyeok hoists him up with one arm under his knees and the other on the curve of his waist. With a surprising amount of strength, he carries Wangho easily, nudging the chair out of the way with his hip and moving towards the bed. Squeaking inelegantly in surprise, Wangho clings on with his arms curled over the older boy’s shoulders.

“I’m only spoiling you for today. Don’t even think about making me carry your lazy ass next time,” Sanghyeok’s voice cuts through his thoughts about making this a frequent thing, and he shamelessly grins. They know each other well enough.

Sanghyeok steals his breath away once they make themselves cozy, and Wangho melts down onto Sanghyeok’s lap, lips warm and tingly, leaning forward for more.

This is what being in love feels like: he’s not perfect, and neither is Sanghyeok, but they somehow make things work — Wangho doesn’t like to apologise; he has his pride as a person, but he’s more willing to admit his mistakes because of Sanghyeok, and Sanghyeok’s more drawn out of his shell now, less awkward around the edges.

This is what being in love feels like: kissing bruises against bare skin, marking Sanghyeok as his; accepting all flaws and the feeling of belonging.

This is what being in love feels like: “I love you,” Wangho whispers, letting the secret he’s held so firmly on the tip of his tongue spill. “I love you, hyung.”

“I love you too, my little star,” Sanghyeok grins, self-satisfied at his own comment.

Promptly blushing at the nickname, Wangho playfully hits Sanghyeok’s chest with his fist. “Gross. What is that about,” he whines.

“Just thinking about the time I confessed to you on the ferris wheel. There were so many stars in the sky,” Sanghyeok explains, seamless compliments rolling off his tongue. The quirk of his lips reveals that he’s about to make a cheesy comment. “I was only looking at one star, though.”

“Fuck, hyung. You’re so cheesy. How disgusting,” Wangho says with the fondest tone in his voice. He lowers his gaze, unable to look the older male in the eye. “You’re my star too,” he stammers, hiding his face away with his hands. Sanghyeok only laughs and takes his hands, kissing each knuckle, and Wangho knows this is love.

Nothing else matters, now that he’s in Sanghyeok’s lap like this, lips soft against his like feathers of an angel. He paws at Sanghyeok’s shirt, letting his hands wander under. They rock against each other, comforting and soothing, meshing their souls together, hands roaming free.

The door swings open, and they jerk away sheepishly when Seunghoon barges in and promptly lets out a scream in shock.

“The two of you!” Seunghoon yells dramatically, and Wangho giggles and gestures for Sanghyeok to handle the situation, rolling off of Sanghyeok’s lap and tucking himself in the crook of his arm.

“Close the door behind you,” Sanghyeok reminds him, looking at him as innocently as he can while adjusting his crumpled shirt, trying his best to smooth out the creases Wangho’s hands had created. Wangho idly combs through his own hair with his fingers, convinced that Sanghyeok’s clearly made a mess of it.

Mouth agape, Seunghoon stares at them as he slowly closes the door, locking it behind him before taking a few more steps forward. “You little shits,” he curses in English, then switches back to using Korean. “I knew there was something going on between the two of you!”

“Yeah, you were right. We just didn’t want to tell anyone yet,” Sanghyeok answers cheerily, not bothering to correct Seunghoon for the lack of honorifics. Gently, he strokes at Wangho’s waist, leaving comforting swirls of heat through his shirt. “Wangho said he wasn’t ready for people to find out yet.”

Cautiously, Seunghoon looks at him. “But are you fine with people knowing now?”

Wangho feels a new kind of pride when he nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes: 
> 
> * In no way is this story an accurate description of the League players in real life.
> 
> * Happy Pride Month! It’s actually a coincidence, but I thought it would be nice to end this at the end of Pride Month, and with the ending sentence being how Wangho feels pride in being alright with people knowing about his relationship with Sanghyeok. I think I’m pretty witty, please pretend you thought it was cool as well, even if it’s just for the sake of not hurting my pride. (Hah, did you see what I did there?)
> 
> 1\. Wangho’s mother 
> 
> In the story, Wangho talks to his mother on the phone for a long time, but he doesn’t do what he wants to do, which is to apologise to her for not being enough. Some things don’t get fixed until time passes. 
> 
> He also keeps the fact that he likes boys a secret from his mother, even if his close friends have found out or guessed correctly. It takes time to tell your parents about your preferences.
> 
> 2\. About why Wangho chose Sanghyeok 
> 
> Even though he liked Jinseong, his feelings slowly fizzled out when Sanghyeok came into the picture.
> 
> In some of the chapters, Wangho thinks about Sanghyeok even when he’s spending time with Jinseong. This is shown in Chapter 22 when he checks his phone for Sanghyeok’s messages, and the way he didn’t want to do anything else with Jinseong because he had remembered Sanghyeok.
> 
> Have you ever wondered why, in Chapter 7, Wangho texts Sanghyeok and cries to him when he’s feeling anxious, instead of waking up Junsik or texting Jinseong? It’s because he simply felt more comfortable sharing personal issues with Sanghyeok. 
> 
> It’s an unexplainable feeling. Have you ever met someone you just feel an instant personal connection with, even though you just met? I think this is what it is. Or, maybe I’m a lazy writer with no better explanation to this.
> 
> 3\. Neither here nor there 
> 
> Wangho tries hard in school, but the feeling of burn out is there. In Chapter 23, it’s mentioned that he has a partial scholarship. Key: partial. Half and half. His grades are not “good” enough for a full scholarship, not “bad” enough for him to not have one.
> 
> In Chapter 7, he tells Sanghyeok that he’s in the middle, his grades are neither good nor bad, and it sucks that he doesn’t really belong anywhere. He can’t call himself good, and he can’t call himself bad. 
> 
> He likes to play the “push and pull game”; he doesn’t like permanent things. This is evident from the way he goes back and forth between Sanghyeok and Jinseong.
> 
> 4\. Junsik 
> 
> Junsik in this story is actually partly based off a dear friend of mine who I don’t really know how to approach anymore.
> 
> He is the best influence for Wangho. He isn’t pushy, but he takes charge when he needs to, especially when he gives advice. 
> 
> This is clear in Chapters 16, 18 and 23, where he lets Wangho share what he wants to, and keep to himself what he doesn’t want to share.
> 
> 5\. Seunghoon and Jaewan 
> 
> Both are extremely supportive and caring even though they don’t show it much. In Chapter 20, both of them question Wangho about his actions because they’re afraid of him hurting himself, Sanghyeok and Jinseong with his choices.
> 
> In Chapter 22, Jaewan looks out for Wangho by drinking a shot of alcohol on Haneul’s behalf, because he doesn’t want Wangho to feel bad about not being able to handle as much alcohol as the rest of the other guys do. Sometimes, it’s the little things friends do that make you feel cared for. Friendship doesn’t have to be felt only from expensive birthday presents. 
> 
> In the last few lines of this Chapter, Seunghoon respectfully asks Wangho about whether he’s fine with letting people know about his relationship with Sanghyeok. This is the best form of support, honestly.
> 
> 6\. Sanghyeok 
> 
> Where do I start? He went from stoic, awkward Demon King to happy, cheerful boy who cracks bad jokes and gives Wangho heart-fluttering compliments without batting an eyelash. 
> 
> He realises in Chapter 24 that he’s hurting himself by letting Wangho use him, so he tells Wangho to talk to him only after he’s made his decision about whether he’ll date Sanghyeok or Jinseong. 
> 
> It’s always good to protect yourself.  
> This is also me subtly telling you all that you should always love yourself first (and wow this is something I need to work on).
> 
> 7\. Jinseong
> 
> I tried writing him as the cliche soccer star, the popular heart throb who’s surprisingly dedicated.  
> I actually love love love irl Jinseong, he’s one of my favourites. He is truly that one high school heart throb who steals hearts.
> 
> Trust me, All Stars Jinseong will get his own happy ending too. Maybe someday.
> 
> 8\. Final
> 
> Thank you all, truly, from the bottom of my heart. Come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/emperortwilight) (put a star in your Twitter bio till you get accepted) ⭐️


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